If You Can
by TheaLuthor
Summary: What will happen to our heroes in what would have been their seventh year? What old friends will stand beside them? What new allies will they make? Rated M for later chapters. AC and V Mostly HrR with some HG, RT, and DOC thrown in.
1. Chapter 1

Title: If You Can

Author: Thea Luthor

Disclaimer: Duh, don't own 'em. Just write vicariously through JK

Author's Notes: Well, here it is, finally, with about 50 days to go before the real thing.  I hope you enjoy. Just a side note, as I write, I listen to music and there were several pieces that kept coming up over and over again. In a way, it was as though I had compiled my own "If You Can" Soundtrack. And every character has a theme song. I will list their themes at the beginning of each chapter. Let me know if you agree/disagree, or can suggest something else. OH! Inner dialog is in italics. That is kind of important to note.

The summer heat beat down on the house in Tunbridge Wells (Kent). Hermione Granger pushed her annoying hair off her face as she put the last of the things she thought she would need in a knapsack. What exactly a seventeen year old girl needs when she heads off with her two best friends to battle the forces of evil, she wasn't sure, but she figured that she had covered the basics. Wand, a few change of knickers, tooth brush, dental floss, some books, moisturizer, and sunscreen. _That should do it_, she thought and looked in the mirror.

"Mum, Dad, I have some…news," she said to her reflection, rehearsing what she would say to them, how she would tell them that she wasn't going back to school. She hated leaving before graduation, but if Harry and Ron were hell bent on chasing after Voldemort, she had better go with them to make sure they didn't do anything foolish that would get themselves killed. _There was enough of a chance of that happening without being foolish._

Her frown at that thought was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. She quickly walked down the stairs, wondering who would be calling when her parents were out. None of her friends could be at her house. She opened the door and nearly slammed it shut again in surprise.

There, standing on her doorstep, was Percy Weasley.

"Percy!" she said excitedly, "come in, come in. What are you doing here?" She took his arm and practically dragged him inside. He refused to be dragged.

"Hermione," he stopped her, disengaging their arms, "this isn't a social call." She immediately stepped back from him and felt for her wand.

"What are you doing here then?" she hated the fact that her voice betrayed how afraid she was now.

"I am here on official ministry business. May my associates and I come inside?" he gestured towards the two goons that flanked his shoulders.

"Sure," she replied, moving out of the way. She led them into the kitchen and sat at the table. Percy sat across from her, while the two "officials" stood against the wall. He placed a small black box in the center of table between them.

The decision for Percy Weasley to be assigned this particular task was not made by the man in question. Like so many other things in life, it was handed down from on high. Scrimgeour and his flunkies at the Ministry were not stupid. They realized that Harry, and his accomplices, would decide to go after Voldermort alone. They simply didn't know how, when, and exactly who would be going. When Granger failed to reply to an assignment from Professor McGonagal, the gig was basically up.

Percy had been chosen because he had the closest relationship to those involved, namely Harry, Hermione, and his brother, Ron. Always looking to forward his place within the Ministry, young Weasley was more than happy to "volunteer" to be the government's emissary. He understood that playing nice with the boys in charge couldn't hurt, regardless of how short their time in power.

While he did have many self-promoting reasons for accepting this task, he wasn't being completely selfish. If Scrimgoeur was right, then his brother and Hermione, whom he had always been fond of, despite everything, would be walking into danger without any defense. If Harry wanted to sacrifice himself, that was fine as far as Percy was concerned, but Ron and the girl were a different story.

It had been a long two years since he had turned his back on his family. While he always put on a brave and haughty front, Percy secretly missed his parents and siblings desperately. Breaking away from such a close family was like hacking his arm off, and some days the pain was excruciating. The assignment he had been given was a win-win for him. He would look good to his bosses AND to his parents and older brothers, who would be quite pleased that he had single-handedly prevented Ron from overtly placing himself in harms' way, at least for the time being. What the kid did after graduation was his own affair. His hope was that preventing Ron and the others from running off would put him back in at least some of the other Weasleys' good graces.

"Can you state your name please?" He asked. Hermione realized that the device was some type of recorder.

"What is this about?" she countered.

"Just please state your name."

"Hermione Jane Granger"

"Are you a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"At present I am on vacation."

"A yes or no will suffice." Hermione swallowed. What if they had a lie detector?

"I don't know." She answered as honestly as she could. Percy took a breath.

"Did you receive a commendation letter from Headmistress McGonagall inviting you to be Head Girl?" Tears pricked Hermione's eyes when the word "headmistress" was attached to McGonagall's name. She blinked them away.

"Yes."

"Did you answer it?"

"No." she said lamely. Percy visibly softened. He leaned closer to her.

"Hermione, you intended to drop out of school, didn't you?" He gave her a sympathetic smile that made him look so much like Ron it made her heart ache.

"Not really 'drop out,'" she evaded, "more like a 'sabbatical.'" He sighed.

"I understand that you are very upset about Dum…the events at the end of last term. But it is in everyone's best interest for you to go back to school." She hesitated, a rebuttal on her lips that would give Ron and Harry away. "I know what Harry's planning. That's why I'm here." He became all official again, silently praying that it would distract her enough to keep her from calling his bluff.

"Miss Granger, by order of the Ministry of Magic, you are required to attend Hogwarts for your final year. You are to remain at this residence unless Ministry officials, and ONLY Ministry officials arrive to escort you to your intended destination." He leaned forward again. "You are so important to the Ministry, Hermione, more than you realize. We just want to keep you safe."

"What about Ron and Harry?" she retorted sharply.

"We'll take care of them too. To be honest, we need you three alive and in one piece."

"Do you really think that you are going to stop the two of them from doing whatever it is that they have their hearts set on?" she gave Percy a pitying look.

"You leave that to me. In the meantime, get ready for your last year of school. Being Head Girl is a great honor, you know, and a lot of fun." He smiled at her when she made a face.

"What about Voldemort?" Finally, the two goons shifted nervously.

"We have a plan for that, don't you worry. In the meantime, we'll be watching the house, just in case." He pushed away from the table and started to leave.

"You should write your mother, Percy," she said as he was nearly out the door to the kitchen. He sighed. "She misses you."

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Where do you think I'm going right now?"

The Burrow looked just as he remembered it, approaching from the road. The little path that led to a small wrought iron gate. The foliage that his mother had such a gift with, growing nearly as fast and as abundantly as her children. He had asked his associates to wait in the village. With so much history, he wanted to do this alone. He stood at the gate and took a deep breath, not quite ready to go in just yet.

It amazed him that no one was around. All the children were grown up now, so there was no impromptu quidditch game going on in the back yard or shrieks from the recipient of one of the twins' antics. The person he most needed to see was there though, that's all that was important.

He saw his quandary emerge from the kitchen door, taking some rubbish out to the heap. Had he really gotten so tall? Where had those shoulders come from? Percy swallowed nervously. His baby brother at present probably outweighed him by at least twenty pounds. If he decided to be difficult, which was inevitable, things could get very ugly, fast.

"Ron," he called, opening the gate and stepping within the bounds of the house. Ron froze, and Percy realized that he was trying to place the voice. He hadn't been away for that long, for Merlin's sake! Ron turned around. When he saw his brother, Ron felt as though the wind had gotten knocked out of him.

"So it is you," was his greeting, "what do you want here?"

"We have to have a talk, Ron."

"Oh, really? Is this going be another lovely little chat where you tell me to turn my back on my family, my friends, and everyone I love?" Percy felt his temper get kindled, but refused to take the bait. He gave a tired sigh.

"Did you tell them that you were running off yet?" he asked, trying to throw the younger Weasley off guard.

"How did you know about that?"

"Hermione told me." Now Ron looked ready to choke the life from him. Percy had forgotten. Dropping her name had been the wrong tactic.

"What have you done to her?" Ron took a menacing step forward.

"Nothing, nothing! You can owl her yourself in ten minutes time. I just have to talk to you. I'm giving you some added responsibility, so to speak. Can we go inside?"

"Fine, but hurry it up. I don't want to be late for work."

After seven minutes, Ron was feeling less angry and more worried and scared. How had they figured it out? Had someone heard the trio at the funeral? Had Harry told someone? _Oh, wait, Percy was talking again…_

"So I am leaving him in your charge. Harry will listen to you, Ron. All you have to do is keep him at school and out of trouble. He will have plenty of time to battle…'He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named.' Trust me."

"So you want me to keep Harry Potter, the kid that has been told he is the savior of all and sundry, at Hogwarts, where he saw Dumbledore murdered, for ten whole months? You're batty!"

"He doesn't have a choice, Ron. And neither do you."

"Well, that's nothing special; I've never had much of a choice about anything," Ron huffed.

"We'll be bringing Harry here in two days. You are to keep him out of trouble for the rest of the summer as well. But I can't imagine he would want to hurt Mum and Dad, so he will most likely behave."

"What about Hermione?"

"What about her?"

"When is she due to arrive?"

"She won't be."

"_What_?" this was asked with savage calm.

"There is no reason for her to be here. She will be perfectly safe at her home in Kent. Besides, it would be better if you two didn't get your hands on her. You're a bad influence." Percy thought that sounded perfectly reasonable.

Ron, however, did not.

"No, no. That's unacceptable." He sat back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest, adopting a most stubborn pose.

"I'm sorry, but you are hardly in the position to make demands."

"Aren't I? You come in here and give me all these extra little jobs and then you tell me that you are going to keep one of my best friends away for the whole summer 'for her own good?' What about Bill and Fleur's wedding?"

"I didn't think that she would be invited."

"She's **my** guest."

"Oh, I see." He hadn't realized that they had progressed that far. _Hmm_. "Fine, we will bring her for the wedding."

"And then she can stay for the rest of the summer. It's only two weeks after that until term starts anyway."

"Ron…"

"That's the deal, Percy. Take it, or leave it." Percy sighed and held out his hand. Ron took it and smiled smugly, savoring his victory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**: Thank you all who reviewed! You really make writing that much more of a joy. On with chapter 2. Things are about to get pretty crazy.

Oh, yes, as promised, here is the first character's theme song:

Ron _Best of You_, by the Foo Fighters

I probably should have started with Harry, but as he hasn't actually made an appearance yet, we'll start with our boy.

Disclaimer: still don't own any of this…

Hermione was quiet throughout the train ride. At first, Percy had tried to make light conversation: telling amusing stories, talking about the weather, that sort of thing. But the closer they got to the school, the more withdrawn she became. She spent the last half hour silently staring out the window with a grim look on her face that was much too old for her seventeen years.

Percy didn't press her. He had assumed that this would be a difficult trip for her; that's why he had volunteered to take her himself. None of the other Ministry operatives would have understood. They hadn't known her since she was eleven. They hadn't been as close to Dumbledore. They weren't practically family.

He was curious about one thing, however.

"Hermione, may I ask you what may be a difficult question?" She huffed a bit at that but looked toward him anyway.

"Go ahead."

"When I arrived at your house two weeks ago, you seemed very happy to see me…"

"I was."

"Why is that?" Hermione stared at him in disbelief.

"It isn't every day I find a Weasley on my doorstep," she replied with a sad smile on her face.

"I've said some very mean things about you…"

"So you have," she looked away from him again.

"Then why the smile and the attempt to drag me in the house?" She faced him again.

"You just don't get it, do you? Do you think that just because I don't have red hair and freckles means that I don't love your family as though it were my own? Did you think that your leaving and hurting them didn't hurt me?"

"Of course not. But you were much nicer to me than some of them were."

"The boys took what you did harder than your mum and Ginny. It hurt them twice: once for themselves and again for how much pain they saw your mum going through. Sometimes it's difficult to find forgiveness in our hearts."

"But you miraculously did?"

"I'm kind of a non-entity as far as the whole thing is concerned. As much as I may think of your family as being my own, the fact of the matter is that it's not. I'm a bit of a neutral party. It would make sense that if you were going to try for reconciliation, that you would approach someone just outside the inner circle. I wasn't going to huff and turn you away because of something that had happened in the past. I was willing to give you a chance. Although, if I had known what you had been up to, I might not have acted the same way." His eyebrows shot up at that.

"Regrets about returning to school?"

"More like worries that we are wasting time that we don't have." _What could be said to that?_ They spent the rest of the ride in silence.

When they disembarked, Hermione wrapped her arms around her stomach. It was hot, but overcast, seeming to match her mood. They finally reached the gates to Hogwarts. The castle looked so solemn, so silent. Hermione realized she had never seen it thus. Perhaps the death of headmaster had put the very building into mourning.

"Shall I go with you?" Percy asked. Hermione shook her head, gathering her courage.

"No, that's all right," she turned her head to look at him, "it's just school. I'll be fine."

"Alright. I'll be waiting for you in Hogsmeade. Just page me when you are ready." He turned to leave and she caught his wrist.

"Thank you, Percy. I'm glad you were my chaperone today." They exchanged weak smiles.

"Well, see you later." He continued on his way back down the hill. Hermione gripped the gate with both hands, took a deep breath, and gently pushed it open.

She felt as though she were sleepwalking. Her feet plodded their course to the headmaster's office with no instruction from her brain. Her mind, meanwhile, took in everything around her. The place barely looked as though it had changed. No one who didn't know better would realize that a battle had taken place here just three weeks before. She climbed the magic stairwell after giving the gargoyle guarding the door the password. Even though she had been preparing herself for it, it was still a shock to see Professor McGonagall sitting in what had just recently been Dumbledore's chair. Her favorite professor looked up when she heard her enter. She smiled sadly.

"Ah, Miss Granger," McGonagall said while rising from her seat, "here you are. Now let's get down to business." Hermione was surprised. She knew that she was here for a meeting because she had been chosen as Head Girl. She had not been told who her male counterpart would be; she had assumed it would be Harry. But since he had not mentioned it in any of his letters, neither had she. The young woman still held out hope that he had not said anything to surprise her. She walked forward, feeling a genuine smile spread on her face as she approached the matching chairs set before the desk. Obviously, he (whoever HE was) had already arrived.

Expecting to see one of her most beloved friends, she thought that someone had thrust a knife into her stomach when who should she see in the chair but Draco Malfoy.

She took two steps back and pulled her wand out.

"What are you doing here?" she asked forcefully, her eyes scanning the room for any place a Death Eater could be hiding. How could she have been so stupid?! _To have walked right into the trap!_

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy is here because he is Head Boy. I would like you to sit down, please." McGonagall stood still, hands folded in front of her.

"This has to be a mistake. Either this is a trap, or a nightmare, or a really enormous mistake!"

"Oh, you aren't sleeping, darling. I can assure you of that," drawled Draco from his chair.

"I would be _very_ quiet if I were you," Hermione warned him.

"You should heed her advice, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall came around the desk and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder, "Hermione, please, sit down and I will explain everything."

"But, Professor, he…he CAN'T be Head Boy! It just isn't possible."

"It was Dumbledore's choice." That knocked the wind out of her. She sat, defeated, in the chair, until her brain came to another conclusion.

"But, surely, that was before….with all that's happened, surely, this must be changed."

"Hermione, Dumbledore made his decisions before the end of last term, yes. But he reiterated them this morning." McGonagall's eyes looked up to where the portrait of Albus Dumbledore hung on the wall. He looked down at Hermione and smiled that knowing smile of his. It was almost too much to take, and Hermione looked away quickly. She sat back in her chair and tried to blink away tears. However, always curious, she pushed her head forward a little bit and slid a look at Draco. She was amazed at what she saw.

Her nemesis sat quietly, with his head down. His shoulders sagged and he actually looked sad. She couldn't believe it. She had never seen Draco Malfoy look anything but arrogant. Okay, maybe scared on two or three occasions, but she assumed that that was the extent of his emotional range. She couldn't help herself and openly turned her whole face to stare at him.

He looked different physically, too. He was thinner, his hair was cut much shorter, and his skin didn't look as creamy as it once had. He wasn't radiating beauty like he normally did. And tired. He looked exhausted. He finally turned to meet her eyes.

"Have you finished staring at me?" he asked, with none of the spirit he normally had.

"What's happened to you?" she replied, shocked.

"All of that will be answered in a few moments," McGonagall interrupted, "We need to get down to business. You have both been chosen to be Head of the school due to your academic and social prominence. This is a great responsibility. You are to be the professors' aides in whatever capacity they need you. However, with great responsibility comes great reward. The two of you will share a dorm suite that is equipped with a common area and a bedroom and bathroom for each of you. It is separate from the other dorms. Miss Granger, due to your Muggle background, we have provided electrical power so that you may bring whatever things you need from home. Mr. Malfoy, we have outfitted your room in the style to which you are accustomed. If either of you wish to make changes to the rooms, simply speak with me and we reach a conclusion together.

"We are meeting here today because I would like to discuss the added security measures that the other professors and I have taken to provide for the safety of the students. If anything should happen…" McGonagall had to stop there, but caught herself and hurried on, "if anything should happen, and the teachers are not able to properly care for the students, you two are to be the next line of defense. In that vein, you will be taking special classes from me…"

McGonagall continued on for several more minutes, outlining her plan to protect the school. After that she took them up to their new dorms. The rooms were spacious and bright. The common area and each of the bedrooms had a fireplace. There were also walk in closets and some storage space, as well as the typical furniture. Before the hearth in the common area was a lovely old, well-used couch. Hermione already knew where she wanted to put her stereo and Playstation.

After the grand tour of their new "digs," the two teenagers dutifully followed McGonagall back to what was now her office.

"Well, that's about all I have to say to you," she was wrapping up, "unless you two have some questions?"

"Actually, Professor, I do have a question," Hermione slowly replied, "why us? Why would Dumbledore choose the two of _us_," she pointed at herself and Draco, "to be Head? It doesn't make any sense."

"Doesn't it?" asked McGonagall, looking hard at Hermione, "Miss Granger, you are both top of your class, academically. And you, specifically, are a member of the most popular clique at Hogwarts. You have a great deal of influence in that role. And you are the only member of that group who would be able to handle all these added responsibilities right now. Mr. Malfoy also exudes a great deal of influence over his peers and the younger students. Added to that is the fact that we are at war. Families and communities will be divided. But if the _two of_ _you_ can figure out a way of working together productively it will demonstrate to the students and the world at large that all is not lost."

"So, after everything that has happened, I am just supposed to put it behind me and trust him? No offense," this last was said dripping with sarcasm as Hermione sneered at Draco.

"None taken," he quietly replied, not rising to her barbs.

"No, you aren't supposed to automatically trust him. He is supposed to gain your trust." McGonagall shot Draco a pointed look. He slouched lower in his seat. "If we are through here, I will thank you very much for coming and I look forward to seeing you again in another few weeks." She rose and her two students followed. As Hermione walked toward the door, she found Draco falling into step beside her. She didn't say anything to him at all; didn't even look at him. When she reached the main entrance to the school, he cleared his throat. She turned, one hand still on the door handle. He pushed his hand through his hair and continued it down the back of his head to rub his neck.

"You want to go get some lunch?" Hermione turned and looked behind her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Are you speaking to me?" she asked.

"Who else is here?" he replied edgily.

"I don't know, that's why I turned around," Hermione took a deep breath to try to stifle some of her anger, "why are you asking me if I want some lunch?"

"I'm sure that on a better day I would be able to bicker with you, but I just don't have it in me right now. I can tell by the look on your face that you are riddled with questions. I figured you wouldn't dare pass up an opportunity to find out what's going on. Besides," he finished, turning away from her, "I have some explaining to do." He walked out the door. Flabbergasted, she hurried along to follow him.

The sun had finally come out, and the day appeared quite cheerful as the two sat at a table at a sidewalk café in Hogsmeade. Hermione dug into her salad and listened while Draco's chicken sandwich lay mostly uneaten on his plate. In his defense, though, he hadn't had much time to eat with all the talking.

"So why didn't you do it?" she asked him.

"Are you kidding? This _is_ Dumbledore we're talking about here…I thought I could. I kept telling myself that I could do it. That I would prove to everybody that I was worthy. But I was wrong. There was all this noise all around me. I had my wand out. He was weak and on the ground. But I just couldn't do it. This was Dumbledore. He was my Head Master. He was one of the few people I have ever met who didn't worship me just because I was a Malfoy. I respected him."

"So Snape…"

"My mother and aunt had forced him to make an 'unbreakable vow' that he would do it if I showed weakness."

"So what have you been doing since then? I'm really very surprised to see you at school. I figured you would be hiding out in the south of France or something by now." Hermione forked another bite of lettuce into her mouth.

"Not likely. I have basically been ousted from the family. My father decreed from Azkabhan that I was dead to him and the rest of the family pretty much followed suite. I had been trying desperately to stay away from any Death Eaters I could think of. They would immediately hand me over to Voldermort. So there I was: homeless, alone, and with no money. That's when the Ministry picked me up."

"Oh?" said Hermione through a mouth full of salad.

"Yes, I was charged with destruction of private property, public endangerment, disorderly conduct, terrorism, and accessory to murder."

"You're kidding!" He made a face at her.

"Thankfully, I am still considered a minor, so I was only sent to the juvenile hall. Otherwise, I would be sharing a cellblock with my 'father.' It's not really that much better. You still have to be pretty fast on your feet, or …well…I'm sure you've heard of what happens in prisons, so I won't go into details. Suffice it to say that once all my new schoolmates saw how pretty I am, life got a lot tougher."

"Wow. At least you are starting to sound a little like your old self."

"Well, Granger, you surprise me. I had no idea that you had fallen victim to my charms, too."

"Oh don't flatter yourself," she replied, disgusted, "I just have a good deal of experience dealing with 'wanker Draco,' I don't really know what to do with 'morose and repentant Draco.'"

"'Morose and repentant.' Swell."

"So they are letting you go back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, and I have to behave myself to the letter or I get cast back down with the ingrates."

"So this is where you gaining my trust comes into play."

"Yes, and I hate it. I've never trusted anyone. I don't really know what to do."

"How very pitiful your life sounds."

"Thanks," he replied dryly.

"Since I am supposed to be meeting my chaperone in about 10 minutes and I still want to get some treats for the boys, I will leave you now with a bit of advice. Whatever your instinct tells you to do, do the opposite." She stood to leave. He stood as well.

"So I guess this is goodbye, for now."

"For now, yes," she replied. He held out his hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, you told me to not follow my instinct," he answered.

"And that told you to what? Punch me in the face?" she eyed him warily.

"Not exactly." She gripped his hand and shook it once. Then turned and left. _This was going to be a VERY interesting year._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I would just like to take this opportunity to thank all the people who take time out of their busy schedules to review. I really do appreciate it. I will do my best to update this story in a timely fashion. It is a VERY large undertaking. And there WILL be a sequel.

Hermione's theme is _Takes My Pain Away_ by Jimmy Eat World, which doesn't make much sense yet, but will as more of the story unfolds.

And now…on with the show!

She was _finally_ due to arrive. Ron had to stop himself from running up the path. That would look too strange. But he _felt_ strange, so he guessed that that fit. He was also rather glad that Harry wouldn't be back for a while. He would be at the dance studio for another two hours, at least.

In preparation for Bill and Fleur's wedding, all the Weasley boys, and Harry, had been taking dancing lessons. For some, like the twins, it was to impress their dates. For others, like Harry and Ron, it was to not embarrass themselves. The Yule Ball was still a particularly fresh memory. _At least this dance teacher is hotter than McGonagall_, Ron thought, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat.

Harry, unfortunately, while tremendously graceful in a Quidditch match, had discovered that he had two left feet. Ron tried not to smile with smug satisfaction that while everybody's hero was taking extra dancing lessons, Ron seemed to be figuring it out quite well.

In any case, Harry's tutorial would give him some time to catch up with Hermione. He told himself that he just wanted to compare notes and get her input on the whole "Harry Situation," as he had begun referring to it, in his head. She'd know exactly what to do to keep the prat in check.

Upon entering through the kitchen door, as they all did, Ron found his parents sitting calmly at the kitchen table. Mum was reading a book, glancing up every now and then to be sure the pots were cooking dinner properly, while Dad looked through the newspaper. He walked over and hugged his mother.

"Hey, Mum!"

"Oh, Ron, dear, you startled me!" she cried, placing one hand on her chest in shock, then hugged him back. "Would you be a dear and go up and see if Hermione needs any help moving things about? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"She's already here?" Ron asked, not really stopping to get an answer, as he headed for the stairs.

"Where's Harry, Ron?" asked his father.

"At dancing school," the stairs replied. He quickly walked up the steps, again forcing himself to slow down and not take them two at a time. _What was wrong with him?_

The sight that greeted him upon reaching Ginny's doorway was one that he would remember for the rest of his life, he was sure of it. Hermione's back was to him, and she was partially bent over as she reached into her trunk to unpack more clothing. She wore a short blue sun dress with little cap sleeves. It was shorter than anything he had ever seen her in before, and since she was stooped over it was riding extremely high on her leg. Her hair, which she always complained was so untamable, was in a loose bun with sweaty fly-aways making curly tendrils down her neck. As though sensing he was there, she stood and faced him.

"Ron…" she let it hang, and hugged the pair of jeans she was unpacking to her chest, as though trying to cover herself.

"Hi," he replied from the doorway, uncertain now what to do. Within the past few years, anytime they had been away from each other for more than a day or so, they always had these awkward reunion moments. Neither seemed to know how to act around the other.

"Why don't you have a seat?" she asked, easing some of the tension. He walked in and sat down on what would be her bed, between piles of books and clothes. "So, how have you been?"

"Oh, pretty well," he began, trying to figure out where to go first, "been working."

"How is the joke shop?" she smiled at him from over her shoulder as she continued to unpack.

"It's great. I don't want to be there forever, but it's fun for now. It's nice to actually have money of my own. Although, the twins as bosses aren't so terrific all the time."

"I'll bet."

"Yeah, they offered to pay me double what Harry got if I would volunteer as a 'lab rat,'" he continued, starting to feel more at ease. _This is how things should be._

"That sounds like them," she supplied.

"Ha. Anyhow, it's been a pretty mundane summer. Working, pickup quidditch in the evenings, getting ready for the wedding."

"How is your mum holding up with all that?"

"As well as can be expected. She and Fleur get along much better now since the attack. They seem to have come to some sort of compromise."

"I guess she trusts now that Fleur really loves him." Hermione stopped moving, and looked a little sad. Her expression was unreadable, and Ron didn't like that one bit.

"I'm just happy they finally got a place of their own. Things were getting a little crowded here."

"I'm sure that you miss her terribly," Hermione retorted.

"Hardly," Ron made a face, "do you know how many bathrooms we have here? One! Do you know how many people need to use it in the morning? Seven! That really doesn't make it fair for one person to be in there for an hour and a half."

"Well, some people care about how they look."

"If it takes them that long, they really shouldn't. You never take that long, and you always look fine." Now it was Hermione's turn to make a face.

"I guess that was a compliment."

"Of course it was," Ron grimaced, mentally kicking himself for his slip, "so what have you been up to? How was your summer?" Hermione's face lit up like a Christmas tree as she flopped down on Ginny's unmade bed.

"It was fantastic. I did so many new things! I got my driver's license. I went out to museums, and libraries, and clubs…"

"Clubs?"

"Yes, you know…nightclubs. Where people go to dance and drink and have a good time."

"Dance?"

"Now, I know you know what dancing is, Ron, I've seen you do it. Well…sort of," she laughed.

"Oh ha, ha…" Ron momentarily heard the crazy/violence music in his head. Hermione, in a dark, smoky room, wearing _that_ dress, while some wanker put his _hands_ on her!!!!!!

"Ron? Hello?"

"What?" he snapped.

"Just wanted to make sure you were ok. I thought I might have lost you there for a second." Those words, they gave him a queasy feeling. She had said them to him before, or maybe not yet.

_What?_

"Sounds like you have been having a good time." She paused.

"Well, it was mostly good," she looked straight at him, "I had a meeting with McGonagall a few weeks ago."

"Yes, I know, you mentioned it in one of your letters," Ron replied, not liking where this was going.

"I wasn't completely forthright with you." She didn't know how to continue. Ron stared her down in an intimidation move he was perfecting on the little kids that tried to shoplift at work. Surprisingly, it worked on her as well.

"Now, you have to promise me that you will not have a melt down," she began slowly, already getting him upset. He took a deep breath and clenched his teeth.

"Alright," he said very quietly.

"I know who the Head Boy is…it's Draco Malfoy." Hermione instinctively shrunk away from him, expecting him to explode. To her surprise, he didn't move or say a word.

"Are…are you alright?" Ron took another deep breath. His jaw hurt.

"I think so. I just have to take a minute to process this…."

"We probably shouldn't tell Harry just yet. He's been almost as volatile as you lately. We'll feel him out and see how it goes."

"Yes…that's probably a good idea."

"That's all?" she tilted her head in an adorable way and looked at him, "That's all you're going to say?"

"Well, what can I say? It sucks that he's Head Boy, but I have too many other actual things to worry about than 'the incredible bouncing ferret.'"

"I'm impressed; that's quite mature."

"Thank you," he smiled smugly at her. Hermione's face grew grim.

"How is Harry?" Ron sighed.

"As well as can be expected, I guess. He's more withdrawn than ever, and it's just oh so lovely when he and Ginny are in the room together."

"I know she hasn't been taking it well."

"That's an understatement. Luckily, we have been busy at the shop and with other things, and thanks to Percy's reunion with the family, Ginny was able to get an internship at the Ministry, so she has been busy with that," he looked up at Hermione happily, "but now you're here, so you'll be able to sort them both out." She looked at him sharply.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you are really the only person who can reason with either Harry or Ginny when they decide to be difficult, so I'm sure that you'll be able to get them talking again in no time." She smiled at him.

"I had no idea you had such faith in me." Ron snorted.

"Oh, come off it. You know you're a genius. And you're far more mature than any of the rest of us. You act like the parent and we all fall into line."

"You do, do you?" She looked at Ron with an eyebrow raised. He smiled indulgently.

"Ok, so maybe _I_ can _sometimes_ be a problem. But this time, I'm on your side, 100, so you have nothing to worry about." She let that one go.

"So I'm a genius, am I?" she teased him.

"Shut it, you know you are," he replied as a reflex, smiling at her. _What was happening here? Were they flirting with each other? Was that even possible?_ He decided to run with it and see where it led.

"Ron, Hermione, dinner!" called Molly Weasley from the bottom of the stairs.

_Well, looks like that'll have to wait,_ Ron thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: I would like to take a moment to thank everyone who has reviewed. I really do appreciate it, PLUS it allows me to clear up any misunderstandings that may crop up.

For example, someone pointed out that, in my story, Ron seems to have matured quite a bit. Granted, I am using some creative license with things that don't belong to me (see disclaimer above), but I really think that we should expect this. Ron, Harry, and Hermione aren't children anymore. They are practically grownups. For the purpose of this time line, they are all over 17 and therefore considered "of age." Plus, Ron, specifically, went through a significant number of changes in HBP. I theorize that these experiences will have him acting more like an adult than we have seen previously. Of course, this is only my take on the subject. I would very much like to hear what you dear readers have to say.

Anyhow, I hope you are enjoying things so far. I should point out that "If You Can" will only cover our heroes seventh (and final) school year. (Sorry, Gin) Another story, giving accounts of the War and its aftermath in greater detail will immediately follow the last chapter of "IYC." I am actually more excited about that one, but we have to get through school first. 

Since he finally gets some dialogue in this chapter, we will feature Harry's theme (_Precious_ by Depeche Mode) here. Enjoy!

True to Ron's prediction, Hermione was able to get Harry and Ginny to at least be on speaking terms within a few days. There were still some tense moments, and they didn't exactly want to be together all the time, but at least they were willing to be in the same room. Hermione and Ron decided they would take what they could get and be thankful for the little things.

The day of Bill and Fleur's wedding dawned bright and mild. Worried that everything would not be done in time, Molly had everyone up by half six. Ron and Harry, still a bit hungover from the bachelor party the night before, were less than thrilled to be awake and helping to organize nuptial bliss at such an hour.

By 10am, everyone had re-showered and was now putting on their party clothes. Harry and Hermione had never been at the Burrow when everyone was in residence. To say that it was crowded was a ridiculous understatement. Thankfully, someone had had the foresight to conjure another bathroom for the ladies to use. Also, thankfully, Fleur would be arriving later with her family, _already_ fully dressed and coifed.

Harry and Ron stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for their best friend to come down. Ginny, a bridesmaid, had already gone ahead to the back yard, where the ceremony would take place, to try to coordinate her future sister-in-law's bridal entrance.

"Are you going to sit around up there all day?" shouted Ron in exasperation at the bottom of the stairs.

"If you keep goading me, then I might!" replied something that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's voice.

"You're going to miss the whole thing!"

"Alright, alright, keep your pants on; I'm on my way down."

"You know, she never takes this long at school…" Ron muttered angrily. Harry just smiled slyly to himself. _Those two have been acting more and more…_

Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

_Finally!_

Hermione breezed down the stairs to meet her friends. Well, even though she hated to admit it, she was particularly interested to see what one of those friends thought of how she looked.

Ron's mouth hung open. Hermione wore a light purple dress that resembled what Greek Goddesses were always depicted wearing. It was decorated with silver cording and she wore a silver pendant in the shape of a butterfly around her neck. Never trusting her hair, she had put it up in a French twist, with little wisps coming down to frame her face. She even had strappy, heeled shoes to complete the ensemble.

She couldn't help it. She looked right at Ron.

All he could do was stare at her.

Her face fell and she sighed a little. _Well, that's that_, she thought.

"You look very beautiful, Hermione," said Harry, saving the day once again. Hermione finally turned to look at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she looked him over, "and don't you look handsome!" Harry had on a dark suit to match his dark coloring. The color in his tie brought out the green in his eyes. Feeling braver, she glanced at Ron. "You seem to have cleaned up well, Ron."

He thought his collar was going to strangle him. As one of the groomsmen, Ron had to wear formal dress robes, complete with vest and fancy tie, despite the fact that it was August. Although she didn't want to give him the satisfaction, Hermione thought Ron looked incredibly good. _Like a grownup man_, she thought. She hoped to God she wasn't drooling.

"Thanks," was all he could manage. He cleared his throat, "you look nice too."

"Thank you," replied Hermione dryly.

"Well, I think it's just about time for us to get going," said Harry. He offered Hermione his arm in a flamboyant gesture, "My Lady?"

Hermione giggled, "Thank you, kind sir." And they walked out the door together.

In that moment, Ron wondered if any one else had ever had the desire to rip off their best friend's arms and beat said friend to death with them.

The handfasting ceremony seemed to take forever. The entire company was just glad that the weather held out and no one expired from heat stroke. By dusk, everyone had eaten and the bridal couple had departed for their Honeymoon in Scotland. The rest of the guests remained behind to enjoy dancing and another, smaller meal at the very end of the night.

Harry looked more relaxed than Hermione had seen him in two years. His smiles came easily again and he realized that things still were actually funny. She had almost forgotten what his laughter sounded like. She stood off to the side and watched the boy that she loved like a brother swing Ginny around the dance floor. Harry wanted to put all his lessons to good use, but Hermione had finally begged off, her feet throbbing from someone, who would remain nameless, accidentally stomping on them for three hours. Harry had somehow screwed up enough liquid courage to ask Ginny to dance. His partner, whose brothers had found it reasonable to allow her to drink, was sloshed enough to allow him to be within ten feet of her.

Hermione sighed. _Perhaps all is not lost after all._

"Feet hurting you, eh?" said a voice from behind her. She turned and saw Ron standing there, robes gone, tie undone, and the top of his shirt unbuttoned.

"I'm not used to these shoes," she tried.

"Yeah, right. Your toes aren't used to getting walked on, more like," he replied as he came up to stand beside her.

"You know, you're a fine one to talk, I haven't seen you dancing. At least Harry's brave enough to try...even if he is _really_ bad at it." They looked at each other and chuckled.

"Maybe I was just waiting for my partner to be free," he turned and looked right at her.

"Too bad for you, Fleur already left," Hermione said dryly.

"Come off it, you know I meant you."

"Did you?" she turned now to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

"Well, there's only one way to find out…" he bowed slightly and walked towards the dance floor. She was too astonished to do anything but follow him. When she finally caught up with him, he opened his arms and she stepped in. She tried to relax, and figured that she would let him lead for a few minutes, and then, most likely, she would have to take over, to save her poor feet.

"Didn't anyone tell you that you aren't supposed to look more beautiful than the bride on her wedding day?" Ron said, looking down into Hermione's face. She stared up at him and nearly tripped.

"No. Who taught you that line, Bill?" Ron chuckled.

"No, actually Bill was a little preoccupied today," she continued to look at him, "ok, it was Charlie."

"Oh, well remind me to thank him for the compliment later on."

"Hey!"

"I'm kidding, Ron. That's the second nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"What was the first?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"That I am a genius." They smiled at each other.

"Well, I was right on both counts." Hermione had to look away. His smile made her heart hurt. He was being extremely unfair to play around with her like this. Noting the direction of her eyes, Ron sighed.

"Looks like those two are getting along much better," she commented, desperate to change the subject. She was still rather amazed that he was leading her around without stepping on her or loosing the tempo.

"I told you you could do it," Ron said quietly. He decided to try a little experiment. He pulled her a tiny bit closer.

"Do you think they'll get back together?" he asked quickly, trying to distract her from the fact that he was making a move.

"Eventually," she replied, "but it might not be for a very long time."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, pulling her closer again.

"Because," without thinking, she closed the distance between them and put her exhausted head on his shoulder, "some things are meant to be."

Off to the side, the two people that Ron and Hermione had been studying were discretely studying them back.

"Oh, now she just put her head on his shoulder," Harry whispered to his accomplice.

"Holy God," replied Ginny, "they really have made a great deal of progress in a short time, haven't they?"

"And here I thought that I was going to have to lock them in the Room of Requirement for their own good," Harry chuckled.

"Do you really think this is a good idea, or would we be safer with super-frustrated Ron and Hermione? At least then we know what we are dealing with…" Ginny asked, worried.

"Everything will work out fine," replied Harry, looking down into her face and stepping on her toe in his distraction.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, Ginny, I am sorry."

"That's all right, I do believe that I have one toe left that's not broken. Why don't we go get some punch and take a rest?"

"Sounds good to me." And they walked off the dance floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: ** Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed. I love seeing them in my inbox! I am looking for a theme song for Percy, if anyone has any suggestions.

I do love me some Weasleys and since she has quite a bit to do in this chapter, I present to you Ginny's anthem: _Gone_ by Kelly Clarkson

"Someone was getting quite chummy with one of my brothers at the wedding," Ginny said, her back to Hermione as the two girls packed up the room to go back to school.

"Well, George said that he was rather desperate to make Alicia jealous. I was the only female on hand that wasn't related to him or taken," replied Hermione, trying to dodge the conversation that she had been dreading for two weeks.

"You know, it really is amazing that you were able to grow yourself a sense of humor in just one summer," Ginny bit, "but I really think that we should avoid all potions suggestions from that enchanted textbook that Harry found." The two girls turned and looked at each other.

"Is there a reason why you are baiting me?" asked Hermione, quite upset, actually.

"The reason is that I am a coward and am unfairly taking all my frustrations out on you," Ginny really did sound repentant, "I'm sorry."

"I understand; TRUST ME!" said Hermione as she flopped down on the bed. Ginny sat beside her and pulled her knees to her chest.

"You two looked really good together," she tried.

"Don't start," Hermione pleaded.

"I can't help it. To some of us, you and Ron getting together has been the most probable outcome going on five years. For it to actually happen would be rather comforting."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything is all out of sorts now, with Harry, with school, with Dum…" she couldn't even finish. After a steadying breath, Ginny continued, "But if you and Ron finally got together, it would give us something to believe in."

"Why is it that everyone seems to be saying things like that to me lately?"

"Because it's true. As much as the boys want to be, try to be, or think they are, you're our real rock, Hermione. You're the voice of reason Even for Harry."

"It's a pipe dream, Ginny. It's my pipe dream too, but we just have to accept the fact that it isn't going to happen." Ginny took her hand, and tried to ignore the tears that Hermione was trying valiantly not to shed.

"Why?"

"Because he isn't interested. I'm never going to look any better than I did at the wedding and that didn't work. All he'll ever see me as is a friend."

"No, I don't believe that," said Ginny, forcefully shaking her head. Hermione sighed. _What more is there to say?_

She was saved from having to reply by Mr. Weasley calling up the stairs, telling them that the cars to the station had arrived.

Hermione swallowed the worry that had massed in her throat as Kings Cross Station came into view. _Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, right?_

She had waited until the last possible moment to tell Harry about Draco. Honestly, she just didn't know how to do it. She decided the band-aid method worked best.

"Harry, I have something really important to tell you," she began as the car bumped the curb, "but you have to save you anger for a later time when it can be more useful."

"What?" he snapped at her, upset already due to the very fact that they were returning to school when he had so many better things to do with his time. He felt Ron tense beside him and Ginny looked on with worried eyes. _Ah, so they all know already. Great._

"Hurry, now, dears, it's nearly time," called Mrs. Weasley from outside the car.

"Just a bit, Mum," replied Ron, willing her to get distracted. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Draco Malfoy is Head Boy," she exhaled. Harry stared at her in shock. He smiled at her.

"Hermione, that is a really nasty joke," he replied saccharinely.

"I wish I were joking," she said, frowning, "Oh, how I wish I were."

_Can your heart break and boil over with rage at the same time?_

"How long have you known about this?"

"A while."

"And you two have known about it too, I assume?"

"Hermione and I thought that we would let you enjoy the rest of the summer before dropping all this on you," said Ron, in the calmest voice Hermione had ever heard him use.

"Did you? So what the hell does this mean exactly? That he says 'jump' and we all ask 'how high?' Bugger that! He can suck me sideways!"

"It's not like that," said Hermione in her "teacher voice," "Don't be surprised if he lays very low this year."

"And who exactly is going to be keeping an eye on him, hmm? Down there in the dungeons with all his lackeys just itching to do any delinquent thing he suggests?"

"He won't be in the dungeons," Hermione replied without thinking, "he'll be sharing a dorm with me."

"Sorry?" Ron said in a tight voice. Now both he AND Harry looked at her as though they were about to kill something.

"The Head Boy and Head Girl have separate dorms," she said, wishing Ron would go back to being her ally in this, "they always have. Why are you so surprised? Didn't you know?"

"I guess I just didn't give it a thought," Ron was still as angry as before, and looked to be gaining momentum with each passing second.

"So no worries, then," said Ginny, _Bless her_, coming to the rescue, "Draco will be separated from his minions and under Hermione's watchful eye most of the hours of the day."

The boys just sat there.

"I don't like this," said Ron through clenched teeth. Hermione sighed.

"I don't either, but we don't have anything to say in the matter. It's done, and for good reason."

"WHAT?!" Harry didn't think it was possible to get MORE upset.

"Dumbledore and McGonagall had very good reasons for choosing him. And he's not like he was before."

"How would you know that?" came from Harry.

"Because I talked to him."

"When did this happen?" came from Ron. _Honestly, they could give the Spanish Inquisition lessons!_

Hermione paused. Ginny moved closer to her friend to lend support. "When we had lunch together after our meeting with McGonagall," she answered in a very small voice. Ron thought he was going to have a stroke.

"Well, you neglected to mention that little tidbit of information."

"I didn't want to upset you, either of you, any more than necessary. And there really is no reason to worry. Like Ginny said, I'll be there to keep my eye on him. And who's better than me?" Hermione smiled at Ron, hoping beyond hope that he would crack.

He couldn't believe it. _Was she serious? She was actually trying to __**seduce**__ him into doing something? What was going on here? Had he accidentally wandered into another dimension? _He could almost hear her begging. _Please, Ron, for once, don't make this harder than it needs to be. For Harry…Please…_

Ron took a deep breath. "Let's go."

The other three teenagers stared at him. _Was it really that shocking that he would be cooperative?_ Almost afraid to do anything but move with him in such a strange state of mind, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione slid out of the car and walked into the station. Ron followed, and noticed, to his annoyance, that Hermione had fallen back to walk beside him.

"Thank you, …"

"Don't," he interrupted shortly, "I can't believe you didn't say anything about this before. What's gotten into you? You spend all summer acting like…who knows what…you try to flirt with me to get your way, and then, THEN, you tell us that you will be living with _Malfoy_," he needed to spit to get the taste of that name out of his mouth.

"That isn't fair," she protested.

"Yeah, well, life ain't fair, sweetheart. I thought that you would have learned that by now, what with your freakish intelligence and all."

"What's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with _me_? There's nothing wrong with me; I'm the same person I was at the end of last term. You're the one who did all the changing. And I am not at all sure that I like what I see." He stared her down, baiting her. But for the first time, she didn't fire back. She stood there and looked back at him, with an expression on her face that her heart was breaking. Ron started to feel uneasy. _Why wasn't she fighting back? _ She clenched her jaw and looked at him through betrayed eyes.

"Well, what are you standing around for, if you are so disappointed in me?" He couldn't do anything but look at her. "You're going to miss the train." Stomach hurting, Ron turned on his heel and with one final glance back at her, walked onto platform 9 ¾.

"Christ, we're not even back at school yet and you're fighting with your boyfriend already?" came a slippery voice from behind her as Hermione watched Ron walk away. She turned to see Draco smirking at her.

"Are we done?" she asked tiredly. _Having your heart broken really takes the fight out of a person._

The change in him was immediate. He dropped the arrogant façade. "Yes." They turned toward the train and boarded.

For the first time in 7 years, Hermione did not sit with Ron and Harry on the train ride to Hogwarts. She didn't look for them, and to be quite honest, she really didn't want to see them. She and Draco held a brief prefects meeting, which Ron neglected to attend (further annoying her), and then retreated to the Head car. Hermione breathed in the luxury as she sunk deeper into her richly upholstered chair. A popping noise behind her made her turn her head sharply. Draco was pouring yellowish fizzy liquid into two tall glasses.

"What's this then?"

"Champagne."

"Well, yes, I recognize it. Why do you have Muggle alcohol?"

"Two reasons: my poncey bastard of a father is hypocritical enough to hate Muggles but love their luxuries on an occasional basis. I don't want him to be able to enjoy ANYTHING that his ill-gotten gains have secured him, so I have been looting the house I grew up in on any occasion. Secondly, I thought that we should congratulate ourselves on a job well done and celebrate what will undoubtedly be a _very_ interesting year."

"Draco, why are you in here with me, drinking champagne, instead of out in the Slytherin cars wreaking havoc on first years?"

"I told you, I have to lay low. And you are the only person I trust to be within two feet of me right now."

"That's interesting," Hermione replied absently, rolling the flute stem between her fingers, "how do you know I won't stab you in the back as well?"

"Simple, my dear, Gryffindors just don't have a treacherous bone in their bodies." She laughed at that, thinking of the irony.

"I could get used to this."

"And this is only the beginning. Stick with me, kid," he replied looking at her with a smile, a REAL smile, "you're about to learn the finer things in life."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: Well, friends, I am a little (just a little) melancholy today. has rejected "If You Can" for the second time.

Oh well, thems the breaks.

I would like to take this opportunity, therefore, to thank each and every one of you for sticking with this story and for the complimentary reviews. You make it worth writing! And blessing on this site for freedom in fanfiction!

I'll feature Draco theme in this chapter. _Fallen_ by Franz Ferdinand was played far too few times on the radio. 

The Golden Trio hadn't seen much of each other during the beginning of the school year. At least, one member of the trio hadn't. Ron still had his hands full keeping an eye on Harry. He never really appreciated all the frustrated stares and reprimands that the adults had always been giving the three of them. Now that he had to personally rein Harry in, he finally understood why McGonagall was always pursing her lips at them.

But Hermione was no where to be found. The boys had been spending nearly every second of every day together, since they lived together, had all the same classes, ate together, and were on the same Quidditch team. The only time they saw their best friend was during the few classes that they shared. Hermione, of course, was taking the most difficult and (Ron thought, anyway) boring classes at the highest levels. They barely ever saw her eat, and had been up to her room only once. That little interlude had gotten sour real fast. Harry and Ron had just started to get the hang of _Gran Turismo_ when Draco walked in and things got extremely uncomfortable for everyone.

They had finally tracked her down one Saturday afternoon, looking suspiciously exhausted, in the library.

"There you are," said Ron as they approached what most of the Hogwarts students had deemed "Hermione's table."

"Here I am," she replied, not looking up from her text book. NEWTS were only 9 months away, after all.

"We were thinking of going down to visit Hagrid and were wondering if you were interested in coming along," said Harry, with as big a smile as he could manage plastered on his face.

The visit to Hagrid was a peace offering, one that Ron and Harry figured Hermione couldn't refuse. They had never spoken of what happened at the train station; Hermione because she was still too hurt and the boys because they just hoped it would run its course and be forgotten. Apparently, as they had grown in size and age, their respective tempers had swelled proportionately. Three powder kegs are NOT fun.

Hermione stared at each of them shrewdly in turn.

"You're going down to Hagrid's?" she asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"And you thought I might want to go with you?"

"Yeah," continued Ron, starting to suspect that this wasn't going to be as easy as he first thought.

"So I'm just supposed to forget how horrible you, BOTH of you were to me at the train station and pretend it never happened?"

_Damn_. Harry and Ron looked at each other uneasily. Ron was used to being in trouble with Hermione. He figured that he spent approximately 50 of the time on her bad side. But this situation was different. Normally, he just waited until some catastrophe befell them and then Hermione would forgive him. Thus far, they had been surprisingly and relatively worry-free. Also, he had never been in the doghouse with someone, least likely of all would be the Chosen One himself, who Hermione coddled, in his opinion. This was indeed a difficult situation.

"Alright, I'm sorry. I was very upset and I yelled at you for something that wasn't your fault," Harry finally responded. Hermione smiled at him indulgently and then turned a haughty face to Ron.

_What, he was supposed to apologize now? What the hell was this?_ He looked at Harry, who was staring him down. _Oh, God, he was!_

"I'm sorry too."

"What are you sorry for, Ronald?" _Oh, come on now! She didn't cross examine Harry. This wasn't fair._

"I'm sorry that it sounded as though I was disappointed in you and that I didn't like you anymore. I was also upset and taking it out on you." That was a bitter pill to swallow. _And where was his indulgent smile?_

"I'm sorry that I kept things from you. I should have trusted you, BOTH of you, to be mature enough to handle the truth." Once again Ron felt as though he had wandered into another dimension. _Now they were all apologizing for everything? What were they, adults?_

"So, we're off then?" asked Harry, eager for things to return to some semblance of normalcy.

"Sure," she smiled at him again and grabbed her bag. "Are you feeling all right, Ron? You're making a strange face." She asked, placing her hand on his arm as she walked around the table. Ron smiled smugly to himself. He knew _exactly_ how to play the pitiful patient card, and she fell for it every time.

"Well, since you asked, I haven't really been sleeping too well lately…"

They walked from the library through the corridors of the ancient school toward the back doors. In one of the long halls, they heard a familiar voice approaching. Without thinking, Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her into a wardrobe after pushing Ron in first. Unfortunately, Hermione had stumbled a bit from being shoved and Ron had to reach out for her to make sure she didn't damage herself.

"And what exactly are we doing in here?" Hermione asked sarcastically after Harry yanked the doors closed, "looking for a new route to Narnia?"

"Shh!" Harry replied.

"What's Narnia?" asked Ron.

"It's from some Muggle books, Ron. It's actually quite fascinating…"

"SHH!!!"

…

"Ron, why are your arms around my waist?"

"Oh! Sorry." Ron was thankful for the darkness in the wardrobe so that she wouldn't see him blushing.

_Oh for God's sake!_ Harry prayed they would shut up as he pressed his ear against a crack in the door. _Yup, that was Malfoy, alright._ His stupid poof voice got louder as he approached their hiding place.

"Well, The Dark Lord is terrifying, of course. But I realized, eventually, that what the Deatheaters were doing was truly evil. I've seen the error of my ways, and now I am trying to repent," the smarmy bastard was saying; to whom, Harry couldn't guess.

"Wow, you are so brave to escape like that…" came the vapid reply of some (probably) sixth year girl.

"Yes, I am in constant danger now, though."

"How terrible for you…" _was she actually buying this?_

After they had walked a sufficient way down the hall, Harry allowed his captives to get out of the wardrobe. They were able to make out Draco and some Ravenclaw girl just before they turned the corner.

"And here I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart," laughed Ron.

"He was laying it on a little thick," agreed Hermione.

"We should follow him," replied Harry, "there's no telling what he's up to."

"Oh, for the love of Pete, Harry," Hermione sighed, "it's completely obvious what he's up to. Pity for me, I'll have to hear all about it when he gets back to the dorm tonight."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Ron.

"Just what it says. The poor boy is desperate for friends. I have to hear all about his amorous exploits. It's really disgusting."

"Well, you two certainly sound chummy," Harry bit out.

"He's not the only one who's desperate for friends," Hermione replied softly. Ron just stared at her after she said that. Then she seemed to snap out of it. "Well, we'll never get to Hagrid's standing around here all day." She turned on her heel and walked off, leaving the boys no choice but to follow her.

As with each new school year, the first thing that happens in September is that everyone catches up on the gossip of what had happened over the summer. Usually each house came up even, but this year was the exception. It seemed as though Gryffindor had far and away out-done all the other houses, even considering the Felon, also known as Draco Malfoy, had come back to school.

First there was the story that not only did the famous Harry Potter break up with Ginny Weasley, but they were forced to cohabitate all summer long since Harry and Ron had been placed under house arrest at the Burrow.

Then there was the story that Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown had hooked up. They were jokingly referring to themselves as the "Weasely Withdrawal Club." The good news was that they had apparently been able to find senses of humor together and could now exist in the same rooms as said Weaselys.

Thirdly, there was the overall change in Neville Longbottom. Lovely Neville had finally grown into himself, it seemed. Not only had he filled out a great deal over the summer, but he had stopped stuttering and gotten some self-confidence. He had also started seeing a 6th year Hufflepuff, despite the fact that most people thought that he and Luna Lovegood would have eventually become an item. He and Sally, the Hufflepuff, were very cute together. She fawned all over him, which seemed to be exactly what he needed.

But the most shocking news to hit the Gryffindor Tower was the change that had come over Hermione Granger, perfect prefect and all-around smartypants. She had finally done something with her hair and was looking quite pretty. She also seemed to have relaxed quite a bit, although that was not something to mention when she was giving you what-for for being out after curfew. All of these things could have been taken in stride if it weren't for her new roommate.

When the other Gryffindors heard who the Head Boy was, they were, as a group, nearly as incensed as Harry had been. Oddly enough, or perhaps not, given the strained relationship he now had with one of his best friends, it was Harry who repeated Ginny's summation that who was better to keep an eye on Malfoy than Hermione? The other Gryffindors seemed to accept this, but still kept a wary eye in his direction, _especially_ since he seemed to spend quite a bit of time following Hermione around like her long, lost shadow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Ok, I'll be honest. I am really not a huge fan of the first part of this chapter. But it is a necessary evil to get where we are going. Just think of it as filler and move along.

Also, I have no idea if British kids say "Eww!" when disgusted by things. However, when I was writing that section, that was my automatic response, so I put it in. If I was wrong and she sounds "too American," I apologize. Anyone that can correct my British is more than welcome to do so in the reviews. ::hint, hint::

And we are finally, _**finally**_ getting somewhere…

The Hogwarts students were enjoying an early fall day. It was a bright Saturday afternoon, and unseasonably warm. Some of the Gryffindors decided to take small rowboats out onto the lake. In an effort to enact their new resolution to spend more time with their usually missing best friend, Harry and Ron had been able to drag Hermione away from her books for a few hours. They piled into one boat while Dean, Seamus, and Lavender got into another. They rowed around the lake, enjoying the sunshine.

"Well, this is nice," said Hermione strangely, "Let's go back."

"We just got out here, why don't you calm down?" replied Ron from the other end of the boat. Harry sat in the middle, rowing while facing Hermione.

"But look, we are halfway out already, we can go back now," Hermione continued nervously, holding onto the edge of the boat for dear life.

"Hermione, are you alright?" asked Harry.

"I wonder what's going on over there," said Ron, looking off to the right. Harry turned his head. In the center of the lake, the other Gryffindor boat was alongside another boat in which sat Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson.

"We had better go over there and find out," said Harry, turning the boat. Hermione made an unhappy noise and tried to get herself as low into the boat as possible.

"What's going on here?" asked Harry as their boat neared the group. Now Dean was standing, holding an oar in his hands like a weapon.

"Nothing, Potter, just congratulating Miss Brown on her excellent skill in your last match," answered Draco cruelly. Lavender was the new chaser on the Gryffindor House team. In the last match she had gotten hit with a ball and had developed a nice bruise. Madame Pomfrey was able to erase most of it, but her skin still held an embarrassing tinge.

"Why don't you shut it, Malfoy? I never see you doing anything special up there," said Ron.

"Weasley, I didn't know you were so chivalrous as to defend your girl."

"Hey!" replied Dean.

"I'm defending my teammate, Malfoy. Slytherins don't understand teamwork, do they?" answered Ron with a side glance at Hermione.

"Just shove off, Malfoy," said Harry. He looked at Hermione. Her face was as white as Malfoy's hair.

"Oh, why should we?" asked Draco. Suddenly Zabibi stood, also holding an oar. When he did, Ron jumped up. The boat teetered and Hermione made more unhappy noises. Blaise swung his oar at Dean, who dropped to his seat, missing the oar. The momentum continued and the oar hit Ron in the forehead. Knocked unconscious, Ron feel backwards out of the boat and into the water.

"Ron!" cried Harry, who dove into the water to get his friend.

"Harry, no!" cried Hermione miserably as their boat capsized and she, too, fell into the lake.

"Oh shite!" said Malfoy, pulling off his shoes and robes.

"What are you doing?" Lavender asked him.

"She can't swim, especially with those robes on. And Potter won't be strong enough to get them both," he answered before diving into the water after her.

The water was freezing. Unhappily, Draco slowly opened his eyes. It was so cold that he could barely see. Suddenly, he glimpsed Hermione's scarlet and gold tie. He swam to her, grabbed her and started for the surface. He reached air a few seconds before Harry and the catatonic Ron. The two lifeguards swam the victims to shore. Harry dragged Ron up the bank while Draco hit Hermione on the back to get all the water out of her lungs. She coughed and looked around.

"Ron!" she said, crawling over to him. He had a bloody gash on his forehead. She pushed some of his hair out of his face. Luckily, Madame Pomfrey appeared, having been summoned by Dean. She conjured a floating litter for Ron and took all of them to the infirmary.

Inside, Hermione was given some tea to calm her down but she refused to leave Ron's side. Harry and Draco sat in the outer room, waiting for McGonagall. Everyone else was sent back to their dorms.

"Why did you dive in after us?" asked Harry.

"I didn't go in after you, dearie," said Malfoy, "I went in after Granger. And before you get any stupid ideas, it was because she can't swim and I knew that you were far too weak to drag both her and Weasley's carcass up to the surface. That was really great of you two to drag her out onto the water when she is so afraid of it."

"How do you know she can't swim? She's not afraid of the water."

"Oh, please, it was incredibly obvious. She was holding onto the sides of that boat so tightly, her knuckles were white. And the whole time she was in the boat she looked like she was going to cry," Draco replied, smiling while he sat down to pull on his now dry shoes, "Besides, she _told me_ that she couldn't swim."

"When did she tell you that?" asked Harry, "And more importantly, why would she tell _you_?" He was getting upset.

"Why do you care, Potter? Jealous?" Malfoy was enjoying Harry's discomfort entirely too much.

"Just tell me," said Harry, already beginning to tire of their immature games. Malfoy's face fell.

"We had a little Head Boy/Head Girl bonding session. We got to talking and she told me."

"But why didn't she tell us?" asked Harry, more to himself than to Draco.

"Would you even have cared? Or would it have just been something else for you to tease her about?" Harry stared at Draco in disbelief, "She's odd-man-out in your little group. You and Weasley exclude her, a lot. Why should she tell you anything?" With that, Malfoy left the Infirmary. Harry sat back against the wall. _Is that true? Do we always exclude Hermione?_ He got up and went in to see her and Ron.

Hermione sat right next to the bed. She kept watching Ron, waiting for him to wake up. She didn't even look at Harry when he walked in.

"He could have died, you know," she said quietly.

"You could have too," answered Harry, "Why didn't you tell us that you couldn't swim?"

"Why should I? So you could exclude me from something else? What difference does it make?"

"Hermione…"

"No, Harry, this has gone too long without being said. And today, today Ron almost died," she turned to face him, tears glistening in her eyes, "You and Ron are the best friends I have at Hogwarts, or at least you were. We used to do everything together. But lately,…lately you two have been doing everything you can to leave me out. I know that you need time to do guy things. And I know that I'm the third wheel, but it still hurts. Ever since the car ride to the train station…," she closed her eyes and tears fell down her cheeks. Harry sat in another chair opposite her on the other side of Ron. He was also getting very upset. And to be honest, feeling guilty. How could he have ever questioned her loyalties? She had almost died for him once, and would do it again without question.

"And what would I have done had I lost him?" she asked through her tears. "You may be the famous Harry Potter, but you're no Ron Weasley." Harry just stared at her blankly. _What did __**that**__ mean?_ Hermione reached forward and pushed Ron's hair away of his wound. The look on her face was so miserable. She wiped away some tears, silently got up, and left the room.

"Hermione…Hermione!" Harry got up and followed her.

The door closed with a soft thud. The room was dark and silent. And the bed in the center of the room remained perfectly still. But Ronald Weasley did not.

Very slowly, when he was certain he was alone, Ron opened his eyes. He crossed his arms behind his head and frowned. He had _a lot_ to think about.

It took him almost 45 minutes to find her. She could move quite fast and knew the castle better than any of them, probably. What Harry wouldn't have done for that Marauders' Map at the moment. He found her in an empty corridor near the Head suite. She was still soggy and looking out a window at the grounds, a lost look on her face.

"Hermione." She started when he said her name. "I want to talk to you."

"What do you want, Harry?" she finally turned to look at him, defeated, exhausted.

"I want to tell you I'm sorry." That surprised her.

"For what?"

"Well, the short version is, 'for everything.' But it's a bit more complicated than that." Curiosity getting the better of her, she turned her whole body to face him, giving him her undivided attention.

"You're right. I have been a selfish, insensitive git for the past,…well, probably two years. I am really frustrated with the way things are going. I want the war to be over. I want it to be done. I want everyone to be able to go on with the rest of their lives."

"Everyone but you, you mean?" she asked pointedly.

"That's a different discussion. And don't try to distract me."

"No, it's this discussion too. You aren't going to cease to exist just because you kill Voldemort, Harry."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

"How are you so sure that he won't kill me?"

"Easy. We won't let him."

"We, huh?"

"Of course."

"Meaning you and Ron?"

"And others, including Ginny. And don't make that face!" she scolded when Harry grimaced at her name being included. "She's in this as much as the rest of us."

"So how are you so sure that we'll win?"

"Easy. We're the good guys."

"And it's that simple, is it?"

"Yes."

"You sound more and more like Ron everyday."

"hmm…" she responded sadly, looking at her shoes.

"Which brings us back to my original point," Harry added quickly.

"Which is?"

"That you are right, in a way. Ron and I have been excluding you. Although it's more me than Ron. We don't have the opportunity to see you as much anymore, what with different classes and responsibilities and Quidditch and all. But it goes a bit deeper than that. When I saw you over the summer, when you told me about Malfoy, I felt as though you had betrayed me…wait, let me finish!" he had to add when she looked as though she would burst into tears.

"I was and in some ways still am angry at everything, at the world. I want to be able to finish this and I feel as though everything is holding me back, the ministry, school…it makes me a dangerous person right now. You know that I am hotheaded and act without thinking. I didn't want to deal with what you were telling me, so I lashed out at you, to make it easier on myself. If I could get you angry at me, and make you stay angry, then maybe you would remove yourself from the fight. Maybe I could deal with losing you now and not have everything hit me all at once." He looked at her face and saw the tears.

"Harry, you aren't going to lose me. And you can't push me away, either, you dumb prat!" she laughed tearily, "that didn't work with Ginny and it sure as hell isn't going to work with me." She hugged him, hard, and patted his head when she felt him hug her back.

"There's no way to talk you out of it, then?"

"Of course not."

"Too bad I'm such a selfish bastard that I am almost happy to hear you say that." Hermione chuckled slightly, but didn't let go of him.

"So what happened in the hospital wing with Ron?" Hermione pulled away slightly so that she could look at him.

"Nothing happened with Ron, you were right there the whole time," she responded, looking confused.

"You like him…"

"I always have."

"No, I mean, you _like_ him…as something more than a friend."

"Yes. I _always_ have."

"Always?"

"Apparently," she said sadly.

"What about me?"

"What about you?"

"You never fancied me at all?"

"Eww!" Hermione pulled away from him abruptly. Harry made an insulted face.

"I didn't expect you to be disgusted by the idea," he smiled at her.

"Eww, Harry, that's just wrong," answered Hermione, still looking as though she might be sick.

"Not once?" he teased.

"No! Never."

"Really?"

"Oh my God, how self-absorbed can you get?"

"I'm just curious," he laughed effectively breaking the mood.

"And I assume now that you are going to tell me that you fancied me?"

The face he made caused Hermione to wish she had a camera.

"Yeah, that face, that's how nauseated I felt when you suggested it. It would just be…unnatural."

"Let's never EVER discuss this again."

"Ok." She said, finally laughing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Oh, Lord, it feels like forever since I updated this story. Trying to burn through as much as possible before the big premier. Moving right along…

I'm not a huge fan of this chapter, but we are slowly getting there. And it is Hermione and Ron fluffy goodness, which never hurts!

Ron entered the Library the next afternoon. He walked over to where Hermione was doing her work and sat on the table. Hermione looked up when he sat down.

"Ron!" she said, startled.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, looking into her face.

"How do you feel?"

"Oh, as well as can be expected; still a little tender, but nothing I can't handle. I've suffered severe head trauma before," he said with a smile. Suddenly Harry appeared behind Ron.

"Well, if it isn't Scuba Ron. You've really mastered that 'Dead Man's Float,'" he said, sitting down beside Hermione, who gave him a dirty look at the comment. "How's the head?"

"Ok," said Ron, touching his forehead gingerly. Harry laughed.

"Don't worry. Only the coolest kids have scars on their heads," laughed Harry.

"Yeah," replied Ron, "I was thinking that Hermione and I haven't really spent a great deal of time together lately, what with Quidditch practice, and her duties as Head Girl, school…" Hermione looked at him strangely and Harry just stared at him, "so I was thinking that I could teach you to swim."

Hermione sat back.

"How did you know I can't swim?" she asked.

"Harry told me," Ron looked at Harry.

"Oh, yeah, I told him," said Harry after the prompt.

"When did this happen?" asked Hermione, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Ron a disbelieving look.

"Last night. He came to bring my toothbrush and a change of clothes. I was awake, so we talked for awhile."

"I see," said Hermione, looking sad.

"So, what do you say?"

"Well, I have so much work to do…" she evaded.

"Hermione, the work will still be here when you get back," said Harry, taking books and closing them.

"Come on, Hermione, you'll have a good time."

"Ok," she said in defeat.

"Go get your suit. I'm only giving you five minutes."

Hermione headed for her dorm.

Five minutes later, they were in the hall heading away from Gryffindor tower.

"Ron, where exactly are we going to swim? Not in the lake, I hope."

"Absolutely not! That water is entirely too cold. And I have already been in there twice more than for my liking."

"So where are we going?" she asked again. They stopped in front of the Prefects' washroom.

"Isn't being a prefect grand?" asked Ron as they entered the room. He walked over and began turning on faucets. Then he took off his robes and bent to remove his shoes. Hermione stared at him.

"What?" he said, looking up at her odd look, "I'm not swimming with my clothes on."

"No. You need to turn around," she said, hugging her towel.

"Hermione, I'm going to see you in two minutes anyway."

"I don't care. Turn around."

"Oh fine," Ron said. He turned and smiled to himself as he removed the rest of his outer clothing and made his way to the tub. Still keeping his back to her, he slid in and swam to all the faucets to turn them off.

Hermione sat on the edge of the pool and put her legs in the water.

"I'm done," she said so quietly that Ron could barely hear her. He swam over and held onto the edge very close to her legs.

"Are you going to get in?"

"No. You teach, I'll watch."

"That's not going to work," he said, taking her hand. When he had a good grip, he pushed off the wall and yanked Hermione into the water. She screamed and went under.

Ron pulled her up after she had been under for a few seconds. When she reached the surface, Hermione wrapped every appendage she had around Ron's body in a death grip.

"Hermione," he rasped, "you have to let go a little bit or we are going to sink." She slightly loosened her arms and legs so that Ron could swim over the edge. Hermione hugged the lip of the pool for dear life and looked as though she was going to cry.

"Are you alright?"

"That was a nasty trick, Ronald Weasley."

"I had to get you in the water somehow. And you didn't die, so we can start fighting your fear." He smiled at her; Hermione couldn't help but smile back.

At the end of two hours, Ron was able to sit on the ledge while Hermione did a rudimentary free style from one end of the pool to the other.

"Well, you'll be swimming the Channel before too long. Ready to get out? I think we are starting to prune."

"Sure." Ron stood and reached down to help Hermione get out. She swam over, took his hand, smiled wickedly, and yanked. Ron fell in the water. Unfortunately, he fell directly on her and they began to sink very quickly. After a few seconds, Ron realized what was happening, grabbed Hermione, and swam to the surface.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"Why is it that everyone feels the need to save me lately? I have survived thus far on my own."

"Well, excuse me, I was only trying to help. And you haven't always been so indestructible. But I am too much of a gentleman to bring up the troll."

"Oh, ha ha." They laughed at their foolishness and splashed each other. Finally, they got out of the water and collected their clothing.

"Crap," said Hermione suddenly, looking at her clothing.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked, still stunned that she had used the word "crap."

"Somehow my shirt got wet. I can't wear it."

"Is that all? Here, you can wear this one of mine," he said, handing her a dark orange long-sleeved Chudley Cannons tee-shirt. Hermione took the shirt and held it in her hands as Ron went into a changing room. Despite herself, she had to fight the urge to smell the shirt. _Oh, what is wrong with me? _

Later that evening, Ron and the rest of the Gryffindor seventh year boys were in their dormitory. Dean busied himself with the "Operation" game that Seamus had gotten him. Neville was pruning his bonsai trees. Seamus was on his bed reading. And Harry examined his broom. Gryffindor had a match next weekend. Ron was busy searching for something.

"Ron, what are you doing?" asked Harry.

"Looking for something."

"Yes, I can see that. What are you looking for?"

"My lucky shirt. I have to wash it before our next match."

"Well, where was the last place you had it?" asked Harry, getting off the bed to help in the search.

"I was wearing it today when I took Hermione swimming," he stood up, "Oh…I know where it is."

"Where is it?"

"Hermione has it. Her shirt got wet so I lent it to her." Seamus snickered from the corner.

"You'll never see that shirt again," said Dean.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you know how many articles of clothing I have 'lent' Lavender? She must have acquired half my wardrobe."

"Yeah, but Lavender is your girlfriend…" said Ron.

"Exactly," replied Dean. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing at Ron as his ears turned red.

"Don't fret, Ron," said Seamus, "maybe that shirt will make you 'lucky' again." Harry couldn't take it anymore as Ron's blush spread from his ears to his face. He and Dean burst out laughing.

"You had better watch it, Finnegan," Ron bit out as he moved away from them, trying to hide his blush.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **I would just like to thank everyone again for reviewing. It really makes my day to see so many emails in my inbox!

That having been said, I would like to reassure everyone that Hermione and Draco are NOT in a romantic relationship. As one reviewer said, that's just **EWW**!

This chapter was a whole lot more fun for me. Things are getting cleared up AND there is a little bit of foreshadowing. If things seem a little "off," keep in mind that at this stage of the game, _everyone_ has something up their sleeve.

It also dawned on me just recently that some of the things in the story are a wee bit anachronistic if this is supposed to be Britain in 1997. Sorry, I'd take them out, but I need them and can't think of a reasonable replacement. It's fantasy, anyway, right?

But this story is dragging a bit, after I get to my super-most-favorite chapter so far, I will start moving time ahead more quickly.

Enjoy!

All things considered, this year wasn't turning out to be quite as horrid as he expected. He had his own suite of rooms, a never-ending line of willing girls at his door, classes that were challenging him, and the perfect roommate.

…_the perfect roommate…_

If someone had told him seven years ago that he would be sharing a dorm with Hermione Granger, and _enjoying it_, he would have punched them. And then ran and told his father so the ponce could be appropriately punished for the insult. If someone had told him two years ago, he would have assumed that he would be spending most of his free time trying to get under her skirt.

But he wasn't. He honestly wasn't interested in her like that. He would much rather have her to chum around with and play _Mortal Kombat_ against. He was starting to understand why Potter and Weasley always wanted her around. Perhaps they weren't as retarded as he had originally thought.

So, several weeks into the semester, Draco Malfoy had made himself a new friend.

A friend he had no intention of trying to seduce. She was much more useful without all the added crap that came when you mixed girls with sex.

And she wasn't fawning all over him, trying to get his attention.

Another new experience.

The fact that Weasley seemed to get larger every time he saw him and had a NOTORIOUSLY violent, possessive temper where she was concerned only solidified Draco's resolve.

They were such good friends, in fact, that Draco had been given carte blanche to enter Hermione's room when she wasn't there. He had become fascinated with Muggle music after living with her. He was now able to browse through her extensive cd collection whenever his little heart desired. Thankfully, she wasn't so much of a girl that she had all that pink frou-frou nonsense all over the place. He still felt as though he had only one "x" and one "y" chromosome while in there. Crouched on the floor, looking for the Godsmack cd, he nearly jumped when an unfamiliar voice sounded in the doorway.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

He swiveled his head around to see Ron glaring at him from the doorway.

"I'm planting a pipe bomb," he answered, resuming his cd search, annoyed at having been startled.

"How exactly are you going to put out explosives if I break every one of your fingers?"

"Well, you don't really have much range do you? You go right to violence at the drop of a hat."

"With you, in Hermione's bedroom, yeah, I do."

"Oh," Draco nodded and stood, smiling smugly at the other boy, "this really bothers you doesn't it? That I can come in here whenever I want," he walked further into the room and pushed down on Hermione's mattress, as though testing the firmness, "I could even take a nap on this bed, if I liked. It wouldn't bother her."

At this point, Ron looked so enraged Draco thought he might have a stroke. The self-preservation instinct kicking in, he decided to stop pushing his buttons.

"Was there something specific you wanted, or just interested in verbal dueling? I know you know she's not here."

"Very good," Ron allowed, arms crossed over his chest, using the intimidation stare again.

"Well then I guess I should be a good host and invite you to sit down," Draco was too curious to do anything but find out what he wanted. Ron, wanting to regain the upper hand, turned on his heel, walked into the great room, and flopped down on the couch. Malfoy followed and sat in one of the chairs.

"So, to what do I owe this cozy little chat?" Ron took a deep breath.

"I'm here to thank you for going into the lake after her last week. You're right, Harry and I didn't know she couldn't swim and weren't very attentive to the fact that she was upset in the boat. I'd also like to know what exactly you're playing at here."

"Sorry?" Draco looked at him confused.

"What are you doing with her?"

"She's not here," he replied dryly.

"Don't play dumb with me, Malfoy. What's your angle? Why are you so chummy with someone you aren't supposed to be able to stand?"

"What do you care?" Draco replied, starting to get annoyed.

"I take better care of my friends than that," Ron answered.

"Yeah, you take such good care of your friends that you almost get them killed."

"You know, the guilt card isn't really going to work for you here. Try another strategy. What are you doing with Hermione?" Draco screwed up his face in an angry grimace.

To be honest, he was rather glad that the three of them had had a rocky start to the year. It allowed Hermione's attention to be focused almost solely on him. His biggest competition was Ginny Weasley, which he didn't mind having around AT ALL. But if Potter and Ron were going to be rearing their ugly heads in her vicinity again, he'd get knocked several pegs down on the importance ladder, a fact that he was both aware of and annoyed by.

Ok, so maybe it was a different emotion than annoyance.

He was jealous.

He remembered how he would watch the four of them at meals last year, when Potter and Ginny were "dating." The four of them would laugh and chum around, looking relaxed, as though they hadn't a care in the world. No one expected them to commit violent crime, no one judged them for how much money or influence they had. They merely accepted each other, and loved each other, without question or expectation.

He had spent a great deal of time at the end of last term wondering what that must be like. To have people you could rely on simply because they cared about you, without them expecting anything in return. People who would still care about you if you failed. People who would forgive you if you made a mistake.

_What must that be like?_

_Was it any wonder why he couldn't do what he had been ordered to do?_

"I'm not doing anything with her," he finally said quietly. There was no other choice but to be honest. He really didn't fancy having his nose broken.

"Really?" Ron raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Well, obviously you must realize that she has some good qualities. Her penchant for waking up at the crack of dawn not being one of them…" He heard a strange noise. Ron had chuckled at his little jibe! He had honestly had enough of a sense of humor to realize that Draco was ribbing on her.

"So…how are you coming along with that driving game?" Ron asked, extending the olive branch.

"Care to try it out?" Draco responded, accepting the peace offering.

By the time Hermione returned to the dorm three hours later, Ron and Draco were pretty evenly matched.

"What are you two doing?" she asked, as the sounds of cars accelerating met her ears.

"I am about to leave Mr. Malfoy here in the dust," Ron replied, as his Dodge Viper pulled ahead of Draco's Lotus.

"Son of a bitch!" Draco cursed.

"Gotta love that Yankee engineering," Ron replied smugly, standing up. He turned to Hermione. "Well, I've got practice. I'll catch up with you later. Malfoy," he said, nodding in Draco's direction.

"Later."

Hermione just stared at Draco after Ron left.

"Well, what was all that about?" she asked, hands on hips.

"Never underestimate the lure of electronic crap to bring out the little boy in all of us." He replied.

Hermione just stood there. _What in the hell is going on?_

Ron and Harry walked out to the Quidditch Pitch to meet with the rest of the team.

"So how did it go?" Harry asked.

"Fine," answered Ron, noncommittally. He was chewing his lip, though; a sure sign of unsettled thoughts.

The boys had decided that, as war was imminent and they were, at this point, unable to participate in it, they may as well use their time wisely in preparation. They could amass the skills that would be necessary in the fight to come. Two such skills were reconnaissance and espionage. The only enemy they could actively get to was Draco Malfoy.

They had started subtly at first. Ginny had been their unwilling accomplice before she realized what they were after. She would go up to Hermione's rooms, spend time there, and be immediately ambushed by her brother and ex-boyfriend upon her arrival to the tower where they would proceed to pump her for information.

Ginny appreciated their concerns; she had them too. And she wanted to help. What she didn't like was the fact that she had been "recruited" without her permission and that the whole thing made it feel as though they were looking for Hermione to be guilty of something. Setting up one of her best friends crossed the line, prompting Ginny to tell them to do their own dirty work.

Which had been a good portion of the motive for Ron to go up to Hermione's room when he was sure she wouldn't be there. He was grateful that Draco had had the decency to think of someone other than himself for a change, but that just provided the perfect cover.

"I don't know, mate," continued Ron eventually, "for some reason I can't put my finger on…I believe him."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **I would just like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for sticking with this story. To be honest, I am so excited about the stuff that is going to happen in the sequel that I can hardly get this one down on paper.

Things will be moving pretty slowly for the next three chapters. That will be a mini-climax (which, trust me, many of you have been waiting for!) after which, things will move more rapidly. _If You Can_ will take us through the end of the school year up to what would be the beginning of the July of Harry's 18th birthday. Does that make sense?

Anyhow, this chapter is a major departure from the lightness and fluffiness of some of the stuff going on previously. I am just waiting for all the hate mail I will receive. However, I am really happy with the way it turned out. Please realize that I am not doing things just to screw around with the characters we have all come to love. Keep in mind that they are kids who are in the process of transitioning into adults. They may begin to act a little differently.

Plus, this is fanfiction, so we can make them do what WE believe they would do.

Enjoy!

Amazingly, for the first time since returning to school, Harry Potter found himself alone. Hermione was in the library, and Ron was down with the rest of the team already on the Quidditch pitch. He was rather enjoying the quiet as he wandered across the bridge that led from the castle to the grounds. As usual when he was lost in thought, he was taken completely by surprise to find he suddenly _wasn't_ alone.

"Hello, Harry." He stopped short, and whirled his head around.

Luna Lovegood perched in one of the arches of the bridge, looking him directly in the eye. Like so many of the other students, Luna looked significantly different than she had the previous June. Gone were the flowing blond locks and "little girl" aura. She had filled out, Harry noted with no little interest, being only human after all. She had also cropped her hair quite short and glamoured it black.

"_She looks like Aeon Flux," Hermione had scoffed upon seeing Luna when school had first started._

"_Who's Aeon Flux?" Ron had asked._

"_A muggle cartoon character, Ron. She's a hired assassin who is having a love affair with her arch enemy."_

"_Hired assassin, huh? That's hot!"_

Despite the nasty look Hermione had given Ron at the statement, Harry couldn't help but agree with both of them. Luna was achieving the look of the animated Monican. And she was looking damn good doing it.

"Hey, Luna. How are you?"

"Well, thank you. I'm really interested in how you are."

"Me? Why is that?"

"Let's not play cat and mouse, Harry. We both know that you were made for great things. We also both know that if it weren't for a Ministry decree, you wouldn't be back at school this year."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Everybody knows you were under house arrest, Harry. There are certain witches, and wizards, to be honest, who keep a pretty close watch on what you do. Some people just love celebrities."

"So I've heard. That still doesn't explain your sudden interest in my well being."

"I'm getting there. It must be awfully stressful to be you right now, Harry. Not only do you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, but you also have to live under the bell jar, with everyone watching you all the time. Then there are your poor neglected hormones…"

"My hormones?" Harry squeaked.

"You're a 17 year old boy. In ten months you will reach your sexual peak. It's such a shame that the only outlet you have to release any kind of frustration is through manual stimulation." Harry almost passed out. He had never been a party to such a conversation. But then again, this was "Looney Lovegood," so why should he be surprised?

"Luna, why are you so interested in, uh…, my private life?"

"Because I am about to make you an offer. You won't like it at first, but I'm sure that after you've considered it, you'll find that it is perfectly reasonable AND a pretty good idea."

"And that offer would be?"

"Me, or the use of my body, as it were."

"Oh my God," was all Harry could say. _Was she serious?! Was this even happening?_

"Let me spell it out for you: you are a boy under a tremendous amount of stress. As your friend, I would like to do what I can to help relieve that stress. Sexual intercourse is one of the easiest and most effective stress relievers imaginable. So that's the offer."

"Luna," Harry began, unsure of even where to begin, "as flattered as I am that you are offering uh, this…I don't really like you _that way_."

Then she started laughing. She was actually laughing at him. _Shouldn't that be the other way around?_

"Oh, Harry. That's not what this is about. Don't get me wrong," she sobered, slightly, "I like you fine, as a friend. But I am certainly not in love with you or anything of the sort. This isn't about romance. This is about physical release. It's not all that complicated."

"I take it you've done this before…"

"Oh, yeah, loads of times." She was still giggling.

_Loads of times…_

"Like I said, I expected you to be a little shocked about the whole thing, at first. But I'm sure that once you've thought it through, you'll see that's it a swell deal." She hopped off the edge and began walking back toward the castle.

"I'll see you later, Harry." And then she was gone.

She was standing near the window in the darkness. The fire in the common area had gone out and there was a bit of an early Autumn chill in the air, so she had wrapped a blanket around her for warmth. The light of the moon cast its glow upon her, making her look ethereal; a vision, a specter.

"Don't you ever sleep?" he asked, slightly agitated, them catching each other this way.

"Don't you ever wear clothing?" she retorted, taking in the fact that he was once again wandering around with no shirt on.

"The better to entice you, my dear," he joked as he walked over to the other side of the window. "I would have thought that I had tired you out tonight." She smiled.

"I couldn't sleep; too much on my mind…"

"Like what?" he didn't like seeing her like this, deviating from her routine. He needed some sort of normalcy in his life, and right now, she was it.

"Everything's changing, there are so many new details to keep in mind. I'm worried that I'll forget something or mistake something and something bad will happen…"

"Well, isn't changing a part of growing up?" he reasoned, smiling back at her. She looked at him then, the moonlight making his pale skin and hair even whiter. He looked like a marble statue that had come to life. "Just because things are different, doesn't mean that they are bad, Hermione."

"I guess you're right," she hugged her blanket around her and began walking back to her room. Before she entered, she turned.

"Thank you, Draco." The door clicked softly closed behind her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Ok, sorry for the delay in updating. I had some real-life projects to finish up. But this is about to change.

Two things have lit a fire under my butt: seeing "Order of the Phoenix" and the fact that _Deathly Hollows_ comes out on Saturday.

I was really disappointed in the movie, but whatever, they can't all be winners.

I realize that as of next Saturday, this story will become AU. The thing of it is, I really don't care. I have to get this stuff out of my head and onto paper so I can sleep at night.

_That having been said_…I will be posting a chapter a day for the next week, to try to get as much of this out as I can.

_**That having been said**_…"If You Can" and it's as-yet untitled sequel will continue on to completion, despite whatever may or may not happen in _Deathly Hollows_.

I really appreciate everyone's reviews, and hope that you all can stick with it until it's done.

On a personal note, I will not be reading _Deathly Hollows_ until this series, "Beautiful Disaster," and another HP fic are complete. I don't want to get influenced and lose the things about these stories that make them my own.

Enjoy!

It started out subtly. Little things that most people wouldn't notice. But he had spent quite a bit of time observing her and knowing her, so he was able to pick up on it before anyone else.

She was acting strangely. Different from before. This shouldn't have come as a shock, since in many ways she was a different person the day she set foot in the Burrow that summer. She had matured without them; that was true. And it made her different. She was freer, and God help him, even more beautiful.

But this was _more_ different.

The first thing he noticed was that she was tired. She hid it well, as she was used to hiding fatigue. She would be a good little soldier. But it was a different kind of tired. It wasn't "I've been up all night studying" tired. It wasn't even "I'm exhausted from saving the world" tired. This was different. With the prior tireds, she had always had an aura of satisfaction about her.

This new tired had a kind of manic excitement about it. She was downright giddy.

Not that anyone else could tell.

He would watch her during class. She still had all her work completed perfectly. She still handed it in early. She still raised her hand to answer nearly every question the professors asked, regardless of the subject. She still patrolled the halls and kept the prefects on a tight schedule.

But something was different.

It was almost as though he could hear her heart beating faster; like he could feel the blood pumping through her veins at a more fevered pitch. But she slouched in her chair now between questions, when she thought no one was looking. She kept her eyes closed more than usual, as though the sunlight were bothering her. She took deeper breaths; to clear her lungs out perhaps? He could see it, hear it, _feel_ it.

But he didn't have anyone to confer with, not even Harry. Because no one knew her like he did.

_What was __**he**__ doing to her?_

And Ron KNEW that somehow, Draco Malfoy was the reason Hermione was so exhausted. So help him. He was going to get to the bottom of this, even if he had to kill that poncey bastard in the process.

_And would anyone really mind at all if that happened?_

Luna was always surprising everyone. So in an ironic sort of way, Ron wasn't at all surprised when she pounced on him in the Great Hall.

"Ronald, I need to speak with you."

"Yes, Luna," he replied as he turned to face her.

"Hermione has been acting so strangely lately." Ron was momentarily tempted to mention something about a pot and a kettle when she continued. "And I really didn't think anything of it until I saw her coming in so late the other night."

"Luna, what are you talking about? Where was Hermione?"

"Well, see, that's the strange thing. She and Draco Malfoy were coming in through the main entrance last Friday at…oh, it had to be 11:30."

"What the hell was she doing?" Ron asked, more to himself than his companion, but she answered him anyway.

"I really have no idea. But she apparently had to wear some sort of uniform."

"Huh?"

"She was wearing a strange hat and pointy toed boots. And then they danced down the hall towards their dorm. Very strange, indeed." Then she seemed to get distracted and wandered off.

Ron was on his feet and out the door before Luna had even passed the end of the table.

He was up to the Head suite in less than five minutes. Thank God Draco wasn't there. He pushed into Hermione's room without knocking and found her on her hands and knees under her desk.

"Hermione!" he snapped, startling her so that she knocked her skull on the underside of the desk.

"Ow!" she sat on the floor and rubbed her head as she looked up at him. "Ron, what is it?" The look on his face frightened her. "Has something happened to Harry?"

As he walked over to check her head and help her up, Ron was trying to remember to breathe. There Hermione sat, wearing the most SHOCKING thing he had ever seen her in. Did that skirt even cover her rear end?!?! And she was wearing high heeled boots that nearly came to her knees.

"What are you wearing?!?!" He cried, as he heaved her up off the floor. This was a mistake, since, as he got closer, he noticed that her top was cut so low that her CLEAVAGE was showing.

He took a deep breath. Ron knew that Hermione was attractive. If anything, he thought she was too attractive for his piece of mind. The one consolation that he had was that she had never seemed bent on flaunting it like some girls did, his ex-girlfriend among them. He wanted Hermione in long, body-obscuring robes. He didn't want anyone else to know what she really looked like. He tried not to cotton out why he wanted to keep her covered completely at all times.

But now here she was; covered, yes, but exposing enough to make him drool. This was worse than how she looked at the wedding, much worse.

"I don't think I like your tone, Ron," Hermione's eyes narrowed into the danger zone.

"This is just a shock, is all," he replied lamely, not wanting to get himself kicked out before he figured out what was going on. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"I'm going out," she answered as though that were the most logical thing in the world.

"Going out where?"

"To a club."

"Why?"

"Well, if you must know, to audition djs…."

"Are you ready yet?" came a new voice from the hallway. Ron didn't want to turn his head. He knew who he would see and wanted to prevent the unstoppable violence that would result. Hermione, however, had a ready answer.

"Just about, yes," she looked from the doorway to Ron, who was still clutching her arm. He gritted his teeth and turned his head. Sure enough, there stood Draco Malfoy.

"You're going out with _him_?" Ron whispered fiercely, trying very hard to control himself.

"Yes," she turned her body fully towards Ron, "if I tell you why, you have to promise me that you won't say anything to anyone else. Not even Harry." He ground his teeth. He REALLY wanted to know, even though he KNEW he wouldn't like it.

"Fine," he spit out.

"Draco and I are in charge of planning a leaving ball for the graduates in June. We have been spending the past few Fridays going to different clubs to find a good one. McGonagal knows all about it. I am perfectly safe…or, well, as safe as I can be."

He paused to think. How had she gotten away from him? Ahh…Quidditch and babysitting Harry. After a week of classes, and homework, and practice, and watching to make sure that Harry didn't do anything nobly suicidal, come Friday he was exhausted. He usually passed out obscenely early. He could have kicked himself.

He sighed and Hermione realized that he wasn't going to fight her, at least not yet. "Hey," she sought his eyes, "we can talk this whole thing out tomorrow, ok?"

He nodded in a defeated way.

"Good. But for right now, I have got to run," she paused, as though trying to decide on something. "I'll talk to you later."

In another five minutes she and Malfoy were laughing their way down the stairs, while Ron was left standing bereft in her bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note**: Holy Toledo! Is the plot _actually_ moving _forward_? GASP!

Enjoy!

Harry didn't like this one bit. Ron had come back to the dorm yesterday afternoon with a look on his face that would have turned Medusa to stone. He had gone to dinner with them and everything, but hadn't said a word. Not even Ginny could get him to talk about what was on his mind. By Saturday morning, the icy expression had turned into a look of downright rage, and Ron, in true Ron fashion, was snapping at everyone and everything in sight. Harry tried to get away from him, but he just couldn't shake him. Ron was taking his babysitting responsibilities seriously, even if he was being a prat the ENTIRE time.

Thanks to his companion's silence, Harry was able to give a good amount of thought to what, exactly, was causing his best friend to be in such a _lovely_ mood. Harry couldn't move past the obvious: Hermione. But what specifically about Hermione was troubling him this time?

He had noticed that she wasn't at dinner. He also remembered Neville commenting on the fact that Malfoy wasn't sitting at the Slytherin table either. At the time, Harry looked immediately at Ron to see his reaction. He hadn't had one. Obviously, he wasn't surprised with the absence. Then Seamus made some sort of lewd allusion about why the two of them were together all the time and Neville, Harry, Dean, _and_ Ginny worked fast to distract Ron before he tore Seamus' head off his shoulders.

Ok, so Hermione and Draco were most likely together, and it wasn't where any of them could keep track of them, and Ron seemed to know this. Ron's temper grew steadily worse as the night and morning continued.

Harry didn't like this one bit. He was going to have to bring it up; the subject he had avoided like the plague since third year. But, there are many different kinds of self-preservation. And he didn't think he could take this anymore.

Harry was going to ask Ron about his _feelings_ for Hermione.

Oh, God help them all.

_Now, how to go about it?_ He found Ron alone in the dorm late in the morning. He had gone looking for him on the premise of getting the group together to go to lunch. Ron was torturing some of his shirts by throwing them either from his trunk to the floor or vice versa.

"Hey," he said cautiously, entering the room and placing an imperturbable around the door. Somehow, he didn't think that he wanted anyone to wander in OR hear what they were going to say.

"Hey," Ron responded without looking up. Harry walked over and sat on his bed.

"Ron, I think we need to talk."

Well, that stopped him. He turned and looked at Harry, shirt still in hand. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Talk about what?" _Oh, God, this was SO much harder than he thought it would be._

"We need to talk about what's bothering you."

"There's nothing bothering me."

"Right, that's why this place looks like the laundry room exploded and you made a second year cry this morning when you snapped at her about some jam." At least he looked contrite.

"I made somebody cry?" he was shocked. _Was Ron still even on the same planet as everyone else?_

"It was right after we noticed that Malfoy and Hermione were missing from the Great Hall again."

"Oh," the angry face was back. Harry hurried on.

"So, I guess we pretty much know what's bothering you." He let that hang. Ron just stared at him.

"Not really, Harry, why don't you spell it out for me?" Ron sure did know how to push Harry's buttons with his tone. A brilliant strategy actually. Harry had to work to keep his temper under control and stay focused.

"Well, fine then, if you are going to be such a big baby about it," apparently not all the temper was squelched, "you fancy Hermione, _duh_, and now that some other bloke is paying attention to her, you look ready to kill something."

"This isn't just 'some other bloke,' Harry. This is Draco sodding Malfoy!"

"Who it is is beside the point! This is worse then Viktor for you. Viktor is off in Bulgaria and never really poses any threat since he's never here. But Malfoy's here, all the time! They share a dorm, for Christ's sake! He sees her much more that we do, probably much more than we ever did."

"So why are you bringing this up? Other than to start up a lot of trouble, I can't think of a reason. Do you want me to go and beat up Malfoy? Will that make you happy? Hmm? Have the sidekick take care of the annoyances for you because you're so busy worrying about the real troublemakers, is that it?"

"Stop being stupid on purpose. This is about you! You're behavior is really starting to piss me off. Nobody wants to deal with you this way, not me, not Ginny, and certainly not _her_. Look, if you fancy the girl, be a man and ask her out already. Otherwise, get the hell over yourself!"

"You don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Oh, don't I?" Harry circled him like a hunter closing in on its quarry, "I've been watching the two of you for seven years, Ron! I know that there is something going on with the two of you. Everyone does! There's a goddamn betting pool on when the two of you are going to wise up and realize what's there. My date's come and gone since I thought you had bigger balls than you obviously do."

"You're a fine one to talk. I don't see you with a girl friend."

"We're not going through this again. I fancy Ginny, a lot. But I _love_ her alive. Stop being such a wanker with this deflection shit. You're the one always complaining about not getting any attention. Now here it is and you are running away from it. Stop being such a eunuch and ask her out already."

"A EUNUCH! I'll show you who has the stones here!" With that, Ron physically pushed Harry away from him and marched to the door. Harry was able to lift the shield with seconds to spare, thankfully. Exhausted, he sat on his bed for another few minutes, listening to Ron stamp down the stairs, through the common room, and then out the portrait hole. As soon as the portrait hole slammed shut, he heard softer, lighter steps hurrying in his direction. Ginny poked her head into the room.

"Bravo, hero. And nobody even died!"

"Not this time, but it was close." Ginny beamed at him. God, he missed that.

"So, what do you say we go down to lunch and celebrate your victory?" She moved forward to grab his arm and pull him off the bed.

"Sounds good. I'm famished. Meddling really makes a person hungry, you know." They laughed as they made their way to the Great Hall.


	13. Chapter 13

_Why was she always so Goddamn hard to find lately? _He looked everywhere: the library, the Great Hall, the Room of Requirement. He even dared to go to her dorm. Thankfully, the great sod was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't there either.

Ron decided to take a walk outside to clear his head. It was still relatively warm, and many of the students were out. He let his feet take him over by the lake to a line of trees that were sunbathing.

And there she was…

All he had to do was be quiet, and he found her. She was seated on a worn blanket under one of the trees nearest the lake, reading. The sunlight shown lightly down on her and kissed her shoulders and the top of her head. Every few seconds she would take a bite of the apple she held in her right hand. When she finished it, Hermione put the core in a napkin and placed it delicately beside her on the blanket. She was like something out of a fairy tale; almost as though the light was coming from her instead of shining on her.

Relief washed through him in a wave; although, what exactly he had been anxious over, he couldn't really tell. All the crazy emotions running through him made him irritable. Every man has a breaking point, and it seemed that Ron had reached his.

"Where have you been?" he asked angrily, unable to help himself. Hermione looked up at him, not needing to shield her eyes seeing as how he was blocking out the sun and all.

"Why is it that every time I see you lately, outside of class, you are yelling at me for not being where you think I should be?" she slowly put a leaf in her book to mark her place, mentally counting to ten. She really didn't want to fight with him. "Tell me, Ron, where should I be?"

As much as she didn't want to fight with him, she just couldn't not respond a little bit.

There was a war raging inside him. A big part of Ron wanted to blow on the embers and get their row going into a terrific fire. But the end result of that option would be one of them stomping off after something really hurtful had been said, and he wouldn't have gotten anywhere. At which point, he would have to go back and face Harry (and Ginny, he was sure) with nothing to show for their fight except frustration.

On the other hand, if he calmed himself down, maybe they could just finally, _finally_, have this out.

_Wow_.

This was it. The moment he had been awaiting and dreading for four years.

_Oh, Christ, WOW!_

So the question became: was he a gambling man?

_Yeah, he was._

Hermione was starting to get concerned. Ron had been standing there glaring at her for some time without saying anything.

"Ron?" she asked cautiously, and did that head tilting thing that drove him crazy.

He took a deep breath and let it out.

"Sorry," he said suddenly, "can I sit down?" She was too shocked to do anything but nod. He plopped down in front of her as though his legs had given out. He wouldn't look at her.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"No," still not looking at her.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't … I don't …" he whimpered and she took pity on him.

Taking a fortifying breath, she asked, "are you mad at me?"

"Kind of…" She let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding with a whoosh. Hermione was silent for a second. She chewed her lip as she thought.

"Is this about yesterday?" she asked quietly, in such a mature-sounding, understanding way that he finally looked her in the face. The resigned anguish he saw in her eyes broke his heart.

_How had they come to this place?_ But he knew that everything that had happened in the last twelve months had changed both of them, and their relationship, forever. Could they go back? Did he really want to? He licked his lips.

"Are you happy?" Now it was her turn to stare.

"Happy? No, Ron, I can honestly say that I am not 'happy.' But I am making the best of things. We can't spend every second of every day wallowing or we'll end up…"

"…like Harry, I know," he finished for her. "But that's not what I meant. I guess what I'm really asking is, are you happy with me?" Great, now she just looked confused.

"'Happy' isn't a complicated enough word to express how I feel about you, Ron," she answered finally, holding his eyes.

Complicated. Fantastic. He wasn't smart enough to do "complicated." They sat quietly for a few minutes, just looking at each other.

"We've changed, you and I." He continued when she nodded. "And our friendship has changed, too." He scooted closer to her until he was sitting directly beside her. He turned toward her and began to speak quickly in a low voice.

"Can't you feel it? The tension? I feel like if I'm in the same room with you for too long I'll explode. But when you're away from me, I can't take it, either. You're so different from me. You're like an adult and every time we're together I just feel really stupid and immature…"

"Ron, no! I…" He cut her off. If he didn't do this in one shot, he wasn't going to be able to.

"I feel like I'm losing you. Like you've finally figured out that I'm not good enough. And I'm kicking myself because I know that it's my fault. If I hadn't done what I did last year, you never would have realized how much better your life could be without me in it. And it's killing me…" He had to stop or he was going to do something really manly like cry. _Shite. Why did he start this again?_

But then something amazing happened. As he panted in and out, trying to catch his breath, he felt pressure on his fingers. He looked down and saw Hermione's hand gripping his. The warmth of the contact made him brave and he looked up at her face. She was trying so hard not to, but he could see the water in her eyes, and when he met her gaze, her control broke.

"Why are you telling me these things?" a low, quiet voice asked. There was only a taste of Hermione in it. He gulped. He had already given her the knife, might as well bare his chest for her as well.

"Because I'm afraid…I don't want to lose you and I'm scared that you're already gone…" she gripped his fingers so hard they hurt.

"Where am I going to go? I've been right in front of you the whole time, which you'd see if you would just LOOK AT ME!" she finished angrily and began crying earnestly. _Jesus, she was breaking his heart_. She couldn't seem to do anything but sit there and cry. He hated seeing her cry and it seemed the only thing for it was to pull her to him to calm and cuddle. So he did.

Unfortunately, this just made her cry harder.

"Please, Mione, please don't cry…"

"I can't help it," she finally said after a few minutes, "I just can't help it."

"Shh…tell me how to fix it. I need to fix it."

"You can't change the past," was all she said. He closed his eyes. _Shit_. What the hell had he done?

"I'm so sorry," was all he could get out in response as he pulled his arms around her tighter.

Hermione's tear monsoon was over soon enough. But she wouldn't look up at him. Instead, she pressed her nose as far into his chest as she could, tightening her grip on his shirt. She got physical contact with him so rarely, she made the most of every opportunity. She felt his chest rise as he inhaled deeply and she breathed in as much of him as she could.

"You're right, we can't change the past," came from somewhere above her head. "We'll just have to move on in light of what's happened." Confused, she reluctantly tilted her face up only to see a man's eyes looking down.

She was about to ask him what he meant when he tilted his head down and kissed her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note:** Ok, so how many of you have finished Deathly Hollows already? Go on, you can raise your hands…

In any case, I apologize profusely for the delay in posting this chapter. My husband commandeered the computer Thursday night and it was all downhill from there. In any case, here is the next bit. And I promise, it isn't a cliffhanger.

Enjoy!

Oh. My. God.

Ron was kissing her. _Ron_ was kissing _her_!

How had this happened? Ron, the boy with the dirt on his nose, the one who tied her stomach into knots (and not always in a bad sort of way), the one boy that she would always love was _kissing_ her!

It happened so fast that at first, all she could do was close her eyes and try to keep her neck straight. He came at her with such force that if she hadn't pushed against him, her head would have gotten smacked into the tree. _Not that that was necessarily a bad thing…_

But here they were. Only moments ago she had been sobbing and now she had his lips planted on hers. All she really had the presence of mind to do was stay still.

Finally, _unfortunately_, he pulled away. Not too far; just enough so that their faces had some space. Hermione opened her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. Ron, on the other hand, tried not to stare at her mouth. The sight of her lips parting slightly and her eyelids languidly pulling open as their bodies separated was driving him a bit mad.

_Eyes, eyes, focus on the eyes!_

"Ron," she began. Her fingers were still clutching his shirt despite the fact that her brain had commanded them to let go. And she WAS NOT moving back from him either.

"Yeah?" He seemed awfully sure of himself. _Hmm_…

"You kissed me." Wow, she sounded so calm.

"Yeah." He grinned at her.

She was going to do it, DAMNIT, she just couldn't help herself. "I know I am going to regret asking this, but why?"

"I'm trying to move forward," he looked down at her, a soft look.

"Move forward?"

"Yeah, like you said, we can't change what's happened; the only thing we can influence is what happens next."

"So, the next step is kissing?" Her head hurt.

"Well, I reckon that should have been a couple steps ago," at last that almost smug look left his face, "but you know how slow I am."

"You aren't stupid," she answered defensively, more of a reflex than anything. He was starting to make her angry. _Why didn't he ever just say what he meant?_ "Why don't you just say what you mean?"

"I _mean_ I've fancied you for a very long time. I just didn't know what to do about it," he looked away from her and picked at some grass, "and _now_ I know that I want to be your boyfriend…"

Whatever else he was going to say was smothered as Hermione launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his again. Unfortunately, Ron hadn't been prepared and they toppled over, Hermione landing atop him. His arms instinctively went to encircle her waist and he squeezed her to him. _That was nice._

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said, embarrassed, when she realized their positions. Ron just smiled up at her.

"You think that was bad?" They looked at each other and laughed. She tried to sit up, but Ron, apparently had other ideas.

"So, this is really it?" Hermione asked. _Why were her eyes pricking again?_

"Yeah," he replied as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and ran his fingers down the side of her face.

"I just don't understand how you went from being mad at me to being my boyfriend. Which you never asked properly, by the way…"

"You never gave me the chance, Miss I'm-going-to-wrestle-my-new-boyfriend-to-the-ground. Again, not that that's a bad thing. I kind of took it to mean that you were amenable to the idea."

"Amenable?"

"Yeah."

"So were you really mad at me, or was that all just conversation?"

"No, I was and still am pretty brassed off about the thing with Wanko Malfoy. But as Harry was saying, I really couldn't complain if I didn't at least try to do something about it…"

"Harry?" _Uh-oh_. Ron realized his mistake too late, as usual. "What does Harry have to do with all this?" she was getting angry now. _Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to let her go._ As soon as she felt his arms relax, Hermione scrambled up and sat where he had found her, a good two feet away. Ron reluctantly sat up as well.

_Honesty is the best policy, honesty is the best policy…_

"Harry picked a fight with me and said that everyone knew that I fancied you and that I needed to ask you out and stop being such a eunuch…" Ron babbled like a three year old caught in the cookie jar. He looked at her nervously. The expression on her face didn't give him a lot of hope.

"So the only reason you are out here with me is to prove something about your manliness to Harry?"

"No! Ok, I am out here in this moment because he started in on me. But that doesn't change the way I feel. He just lit a fire under my ass, is all…" _ok, she was looking better,_ "granted, you may have been celebrating your 90th birthday before I got the nerve, but I would have gotten there eventually." She chuckled slightly and gave him that smile, that smile that was only reserved for him, kind of a half smile. The smile made him brave and he reached out to take her hand.

"Are we ok?" he asked.

"What do you mean, 'ok?'"

"I mean," _Christ, she was really going to make him go through the whole thing,_ "are you my girlfriend now?"

"Well, when you put it that way," she answered sarcastically, but the sting was taken out because she was still smiling and holding his hand, "yes, I'm your girlfriend now." Ron's face hurt, he was smiling so broadly.

"Did Harry really call you a eunuch?"

"Yes," answered Ron, insulted that she was bringing it up again. It also didn't help that she laughed uproariously at his answer.

Not really knowing what to do next, Hermione and Ron spent the next few hours getting used to this new aspect of their relationship. It was strange to note that not all that much changed. The biggest difference was that they were free to touch each other without anyone freaking out.

They were fortunate, in a way. They didn't have to spend weeks and months getting to know each other. They already did. There were no awkward silences, they didn't have to speak to each other. After a little while, Ron laid back with his head in Hermione's lap and dozed off while she went back to her book. It was comfortable; it was like coming home after being away for a long time.

"Do you think we'll still fight?" he asked from some place between sleep and wakefulness. She harrumphed and looked down at him, easing some fringe out of his eyes.

"I would be terribly bored if we didn't," she replied. He chuckled.

"Well, we wouldn't want that. Although, I can think of other ways to keep you entertained." _Was he leering at her?_

"I think you had better slow down, Mr. Weasley, you might pull something," she retorted. He captured the hand that was playing with his hair and held it to his chest.

"What are we going to do about Harry?" she asked.

"He's going to interrogate me as soon as we see him, anyway, so we tell him the truth."

"Hmm…I guess there's no way to keep it a secret, huh?" Ron sat up and looked at her.

"Why do you want to keep it a secret?" He looked insulted.

"I just like having something special to keep to myself, is all. I'm not ashamed of you or something, since I know that's what you're thinking."

"It's special whether people know about it or not," he sounded cranky and crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's true," she said, wrapping her arm around his and cuddling up next to him. Getting this much unrestricted access to him would take some time to get used to.

Eventually it got too dark to read and the new couple trudged inside to the Gryffindor tower. They found Ginny working on some homework at the table and Harry engaged in a game of Exploding Snap with Seamus. Harry looked up at Ron.

"So?" he asked, fishing for information.

"What do you think?" replied Ron as he plopped down on the couch and pulled Hermione into his lap. His new girlfriend looked less than thrilled at the display, but he solved the problem by kissing her on the cheek.

"Oh my God," Ginny squealed from across the room as she ran over.

"So..?" she looked at her brother.

"Yes," he replied.

"And you…?" she looked at Hermione.

"Yes," she replied. Ginny ran over and hugged them both. Just then Hermione's stomach decided to growl.

"Only an item for a few hours and already he's rubbing off on her," said Harry smugly. He looked over at Hermione indulgently, pretending that her face wasn't red as her tie. "Maybe we should go get some dinner."

"All right, food. I'm starved!" _Thanks, Ron, it was good to see that some things never change._

Despite the fact that she and Ron had just started dating, and the fact that that information was rapidly making its way throughout the house tables and dormitories, Hermione decided to sit next to Harry at dinner. Ron was seated across from her next to Ginny, and seemed to be okay with his girlfriend not being directly by his side.

She was worried at the expression on Harry's face. Her other best friend (_not her boyfriend, now,_ she smiled to herself, _the other one, her _best_ friend_) had a tendency to keep his feelings to himself until all his frustrations resulted in his acting in very dangerous ways. Harry was an all or nothing kind of guy. Not having a gray area was not always healthy.

"What's the matter?" she whispered to him as she reached across his plate to get the bowl of carrots.

"Nothing," he replied, startled.

"Typical," she rolled her eyes as she nonchalantly spooned some of the vegetables on her plate, "I've known you for seven years, Harry. I know when something's on your mind. And I won't let you know any peace until you tell me, so you might as well get it over with now." She smiled at him when his head whipped around.

"You are such a bully," he smiled, and then thought for a few moments. "You know that I really am happy for you and Ron, right?"

"Of course. The way I hear it, you had something to do with his being out looking for me this afternoon in the first place. A eunuch, huh?" Harry chuckled at that, but didn't say anything.

"But…?" Hermione supplied.

"But I'm being a selfish bastard again, and I worry that in all the time you spend doing 'couple' things, you won't have any time for me…"

"Do you honestly think I can only do one thing at a time? Come now, you know me better than that."

He gave her one of his looks.

"Ron had a girlfriend last year and you weren't this upset."

"Yes, but that girlfriend wasn't you, so I still had you."

"Oh, yeah, we spent oodles of time together."

"You know what I mean. Besides, Lavender and Ron is different from you and Ron, and you know it. It's gonna be more intense."

"Mmm…" Hermione smiled off into space, "that's true, but there's one thing you're forgetting."

"And what's that?"

"You're the closest thing I have to a brother. Do you really think I would forget all about you?" He smiled a little at that. He knew how she felt.

"Besides," she added, feeling her eyes start to prick up again, "what makes you think that I don't need you too?"


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: Oh, boy, am I sorry. It's been, what, like a week since I last posted? YIKES!! RL was crazy last week.

Again, my sincerest apologies. And since I am in a confessing mood, I will tell you that I coerced one of my camp minions into telling me the _Deathly Hollows_ casualty list. I am pretty disappointed, but I rather expected that. I am going to continue on with this story the way I have it, and it's sequel, planned. I pretty much expected it to become AU, but I am really not willing to just abandon it.

Speaking of planning, I was looking at my outline and realized that we are more than halfway through _If You Can_! Hurray!!!! I can't wait to get started on the sequel. I am really looking forward to that one.

By the way, 100 house points to whoever can figure out where the title to this fic came from.

Chapter XV

All he wanted was some quiet time to himself. _Just twenty Goddamn minutes! Was that too much to ask?_ Apparently it was because no sooner had Draco collapsed on the worn sofa in the common area than he heard caterwauling from the bottom of the stairs.

"Hermione!" screamed the voice. He closed his eyes. Maybe, if he was REAL quiet, the person would just go away.

"Hermione!" Now the voice was sobbing as it got louder. _Great_. Oh, wait a second, he knew that voice. That was the voice of…

"Ginevra," he said in surprise as he jumped up off the couch to stand when she finally appeared in the doorway. _Stupid ingrained manners…_ She was a sight. Hair in shambles, eyes red and puffy, tear streaks down her cheeks… _Oh God._ He did NOT want to deal with THIS.

"Uh… why don't you sit down?" he offered as she was already making her way to the couch.

"Where's Hermione?" she asked abruptly.

"She's at a prefects' meeting. She should be back soon," _but not soon enough, unfortunately._ "Uh… what's wrong?"

Her head swung up so fast she could have given herself whiplash.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" she asked defensively. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm a diabolical bastard, not a moron. Obviously there's something wrong or you wouldn't be crying."

"Why do you care?"

"Because all I wanted was some alone time in my rooms. But here you are, leaking all over the place." She stared at him.

"How can you be nice and such a dick at the same time?"

"I dunno, practice?" They stared at each other as Draco came around and wearily sat on the other side of the couch. "Look, you obviously got your knickers in a twist over something, and as my roommate isn't here to tend to you, you may as well get whatever it is off your chest so you can start to calm down."

Ginny remained stubbornly silent, arms folded across her chest, face and eyes forward. She was doing a very good impersonation of someone who was ignoring him.

"Well, it looks as though I have a mystery to solve," he began saccharinely, "from observation, I can tell that you are upset. And it isn't 'death of a loved one' upset or 'state of the world in general' upset. This is 'boy' upset," he leaned in a little closer, "and there's only one boy who could possibly get you to be bawling your little eyes out," he leaned closer still, "so, what's Potter done now?"

Her head whipped around, jaw hanging open. Their faces were only inches away.

"How did you…" she sputtered in shock.

"If you want to keep secrets, you shouldn't speak so loudly or so much." She closed her mouth and just looked at him.

"So…" he egged her on, "what did he do?" She turned again to face forward.

"It's none of your business," she replied indignantly.

"Oh, come now, you made it my business by screaming the walls down."

"I was looked for Hermione," was the heated reply.

"Well, she's not here."

"So I'll wait."

"Sure you will." He could be patient. He didn't really understand why he was so interested. Maybe it was the idea of playing "knight in shining armor." Those goodie-goodie wankers always managed to get a lot of tail. And it was significantly different tail from what he got. Maybe it was because he would love to hear anything that would knock Potter's stupid freak ass off the pedestal everyone always insisted putting him on. And he would just _love_ to hear Potter's former darling bad-mouthing him.

Or maybe it was because he was genuinely concerned about Ginny. He had spent quite a bit of time with her since the beginning of term. He liked her well enough; he should care if she was upset.

_No. That couldn't be it…_

Regardless of the reason, Draco bided his time. He leaned his head back against the edge of the sofa and closed his eyes. He knew she would come around.

_Three..._

_Two…_

_One…_

"Somehow I convinced myself that things would be different. What with Ron and Hermione…" he turned to look at her. She was staring off into the space directly in front of her nose, not noticing him.

"I take it they weren't."

"Of course not," she spat. "It was the same old speech… they'll come for the people I'm closest to, Ginny… I couldn't let anything happen to you…" _blah…blah…blah…_

"Who'll come?"

"Deatheaters, Voldemort, MI-6…who knows, who cares? Everyone." _Yet another mark in the "Potter is NOT retarded" box._ He looked away from her.

"He's right, you know. They would go for you. He's doing you a favor." She looked at him hard, now realizing who was participating in the conversation with her.

"So hurting me is doing me a favor?"

"It's better than letting you die. Everybody's hero couldn't have that on his conscience, now could he?"

"But he doesn't push everyone away. Just me."

"He's not going with anyone else, is he?"

"No, but he doesn't push Ron and Hermione away. Just me."

"They can defend themselves."

"So can I!" she erupted. _That arrogant, fancy-ass prat…!_ And then, if that wasn't bad enough, he started laughing at her.

"Ginevra, you have so much to learn…" he continued chuckling as he turned to look at her casually, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, "are you aware of how much information you just gave me? How do you know I'm not going to kidnap you and whisk you away to the Dark Lord's secret lair?"

"Because you can't…they'll kill you…" she backpedaled, realizing too late that he could do just that.

"No, you told me all this because you _trust_ me. And that is a _very_ foolish mistake. Look at how we are sitting," she looked at their body alignment, licking her lips in fear, "now, where is your wand?"

_Oh, shite._ It was in her back pocket, where it always was. He could see the light dawning in her eyes as she began realizing the multitude of her mistakes.

"Exactly. I could tackle you to the sofa before you would ever reach it. I could grad it out of your pocket and snap it before you even knew what was happening. And I know that's where it is, because that's where you always keep it. Or I could wait around and pump you for information until you gave me something really juicy. What that prophesy was that everyone was wetting their pants over perhaps…"

The look Ginny gave him now was one of real fear. _How could she have been so stupid!_ She felt her eyes start to prick up. _No! She would NOT cry like a little girl, not again!_

"Ginevra, look at me," his voice was different now, softer. The voice of a friend. "I know that he likes you, it was really obvious even before you two were going out. But he was right to keep you at arms' length. You are in danger knowing him, yes, but you are also a danger _to_ him. There is no way that you are ready for the war, not yet."

She swallowed and looked at him. "So what should I do?"

He sighed and looked away. "You should pay more attention. Watch your brother; watch Granger. Learn from them. As much as I hate to admit it, your brother is always paying attention now. He's almost ready to face them. And Hermione, well…, I would really hate to be on the receiving end of anything she could throw if she really set her mind to it. The crap that she has been working on up to now is child's play compared to what she'll do when she needs to."

"You like them." It wasn't a question.

"I've always secretly respected Granger, she's pretty amazing really. She's one of the reasons why I began questioning everything that Voldemort stands for. How could she be as gifted as she is if she's supposed to be tainted? And your brother, well, he's not so bad when he's not trying to curse me or beat me up."

"Well, if there's hope for you," she said tartly, "then there has to be hope for me."

"Oh, I'll turn you into an evil genius yet." He smiled slyly at her. She was about to reply when they heard the door to the suite being opened and Hermione and Ron's voices on the other side. Before she knew what was happening, Draco had launched himself off the couch and was standing across the room from her, near the TV.

The couple stopped talking when they entered and noticed Ginny sitting on the sofa.

"Ginny, what happened?" Hermione asked, wearing her concerned face.

"Just a misunderstanding," Ginny replied, eyes going to Draco before she could stop herself. She looked back to Hermione, realizing what she had just given away and that the other girl had noticed. _Damnit, she really did have a lot of work ahead of her._

"I was going to go down to the kitchens to get some ice cream, do you want to come?"

"Sure, that would be swell."

"Great. Let me just go put my stuff down," Hermione walked off to the left to drop her bag in her room, giving Ron the opportunity to notice Draco standing in the corner.

"What are you doing over there?"

"Nothing, nothing…" Draco replied, hating the fact that he sounded petrified, hating the fact that he _was_ petrified, and hoping that Ron either wouldn't notice or wouldn't comment.

"Alright, _Final Fantasy_. Are we playing?" Ron asked, noticing the game that Draco had hastily grabbed to make it look as though he were doing anything but sitting very close to Ginny on the couch.

"Yeah." Draco replied, thanking whatever gods existed for yet another reprieve. The two boys sat down on the couch and got the controllers.

"You boys want anything?" Hermione asked as she walked back into the common room.

"Yeah, I could go for some chocolate, please," Ron asked, tilting his head back so his girlfriend (_that's right, __**his**__ girlfriend_) could kiss him before she left.

"Sure, Draco?"

"No, I'm good." His stomach was still a bit knotty and he would be trapped, alone, with Weasley for a good while. No need to upset his stomach any more.

"Ok, we'll see you later," Hermione called as she dragged Ginny out the door by the arm.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Notes:** I would just like to take this opportunity to apologize for my poor grammar. In going back and re-reading things to make the story coherent, I have been noticing mistakes and it really burns my ass, if you get my drift.

That having been said…

If there is anyone out there in the huge internet universe that would volunteer to beta for my pathetic attempts at fiction, I would REALLY, really appreciate it. Sometimes things really need a new pair of eyes.

That having been said…

There are only 12, that's right 12!, chapters left for "If You Can." Thank God! I can't wait to get to the sequel. The end is in sight, my duckies!

That having been said…

I am a TOTAL review whore. And I just realized that I can respond to reviews, so if you have any questions, I can now answer them. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing so far. I love you guys.

Also, in keeping with compiling an IYC soundtrack, I think everyone's favorite couple needs a song. I have a few in mind, but would like to hear some suggestions.

Enjoy!

She was doing it _on purpose_. She would prance around, wearing next to nothing, looking at him all the time. Well, technically, they were ALL doing it on purpose, he guessed, seeing as how he was a seventeen year old human male and all. But it was worse with her, since he knew that the offer was still on the table.

Harry glowered at Luna over his oatmeal. He had begun sitting on the side of the Gryffindor table that faced the Ravenclaw end of the room. Watching her had become an obsession. She definitely had NOT always been this attractive. Maybe it took her some time to grow into her head; maybe she needed to feel more comfortable in her own skin before she could start wearing clothing in that manner. She definitely at best only just made the dress code on most days. Her skirt seemed to be shorter than everyone else's; her sweaters tighter. Sometimes he could hardly breathe.

"Could he do it?" became the question. Harry knew that, deep down, the answer was "yes." There were dark things inside of him. Things he tried to hide from everyone else.

"Would sleeping with her put her in jeopardy?" That was the second question. He had told Ginny, _time and time again for crying out loud_, that he had to keep his distance from her to keep her safe. It was his preoccupation with her that put her in danger. He wasn't ready to call it love. That was tantamount to a death sentence in his book. Besides, "love" carried with it all kinds of things: commitment, gigantic white dresses, prams, mortgages, expectations he could never fulfill, promises he couldn't keep, feeling so much his chest hurt…

And the list went on and on and on…

When he wasn't staring at Luna, he was watching Ron and Hermione. That had become a rather disturbing pastime of late. They had somehow eased into a relationship so fluidly it was as though very little had changed. It was actually a weight off his chest. As Ron was "busy" with Hermione, Harry had more alone time than he had since the start of the year.

But therein lay the problem. He had become used to people being around him constantly. When Ron and Hermione were off having alone time, he got lonely and bored, and immediately sought out Ginny. It had just become second nature. He valued her company. She made him laugh, especially at himself. And if he was sure that there were other people around, he knew that he wouldn't get…_disrespectful_, despite his earlier pledge to stay away from her for her own safety.

But what if…?

Dare he even consider it?

What if he was "dallying" with Luna? Would the necessity to be around Ginny lessen or get worse?

He still had some serious issues with the whole thing, however. Wouldn't a relationship of the nature that Luna proposed be disrespectful to her? She didn't seem to think so, but she was a complete nutter, so what the hell could he say about her opinion?

Bizarrely enough, he kind of wanted to talk this out with someone, but there was no one there. He wanted to ask Ron, but he pretty much already knew what Ron would say. It would be a loud, resounding, NO, ARE YOU CRAZY?!?! But Ron was Ginny's brother, and inasmuch as he seemed ok with Harry and Ginny's weird-ass relationship, he was still biased, right? He would still want Harry to suffer until Ginny got herself another boyfriend, right? _Oh, God_, Ginny could go out and get herself another boyfriend! How the hell could he be expected to handle that?

He also tossed around the idea of asking Hermione's opinion. She had relaxed quite a bit in recent times, but she was still a priggish hard-ass about some things. Again, he could foresee how the conversation would go. She would get herself all wound up and start using words like "misogynistic," and "exploitation," and "moral decay," and he wouldn't understand half of it, would feel even worse and more confused than he did now, and would only get a headache and possibly a lot of broken furniture for his trouble.

_Figures…_said the tiny voice in his subconscious, _exactly when you need them, they are off doing "couple" things._

_But_, the voice whispered again, _would Hermione's reaction be self-righteous indignation, or her attempt to hide her jealousy that you find Luna attractive enough to shag, but Ron won't shag her…_

**OH, GOD!** What if she and Ron were shagging?!?! What if he was the only virgin left at Hogwarts? He had nightmarish images of Malfoy charming the Sorting Hat to blurt out everyone's sexual experience level, making his lack of crystal clear to everyone at school. Harry glared at his spoon as he watched Luna turn from the table and flounce away from the dining hall.

Why should he be the only one left out?

He was the one who everyone was single-handedly expecting to save the world, right?

_Right_…the voice agreed.

He had the right to some joy and pleasure in this life, right?

_Of course…_

Ginny could be made to understand that this thing with him and Luna was just physical, right?

_Right…_

Well, that settled it then. Harry threw down his fork and followed Luna out of the dining hall.

In retrospect, he thought, the knock on the door should have been much louder. He barely heard the summons, focused as he was on the _Electric 6_ cd spinning music into the room. When Draco opened the door to the head suite, his jaw hung open in shock to see Ginny Weasley standing there.

"She's not here," he practically had to shout over the volume. Ginny waved her wand and the stereo shut off.

"I know," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe as she looked him up and down.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, as it were."

_What?_

Draco turned his head to peer at her. "What do you want me for?"

"I'm going to propose something to you. Somehow, I think it will appeal to your twisted sense of humor."

"Well, don't just stand in the doorway and flatter me, my dear, come in, sit down," he moved away from the door and sat of the couch, "tell me more of your spine-tingling observations about my character."

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" she asked him. Rather confused by the apparent change in subject, he looked at her warily.

"I've had plenty of girls that I've slept with, but if you mean have I ever had a relationship with a girl that I have been faithful to, I would say 'no'."

"That's what I thought."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I am proposing to be that girlfriend."

"Pardon?" _Had he accidentally done some crab, or whatever the Muggles called it…CRACK! It was crack! Right._

"I don't have a boyfriend right now, and find myself in need of one. I would like to form an alliance with someone who isn't going to get all hearts and flowers over me. Someone…ruthless, someone who would have the same goals as me."

"So what's Potter done this time?" Draco asked. _She was so transparent._

"What makes you think that Harry has anything to do with this?"

"Oh, come now…this is the second time you have ended up here, with me, after the Great Scarred Freak has done something to you. I'm simply curious to know what would cause you to get your knickers so thoroughly knotted that you feel the need to, dare I use the term, seduce me." Ginny face twisted into something angry, and bitter, and far too old for her 16 years. Draco _almost_ felt sorry for her.

_She couldn't believe what she was seeing. There was Luna Lovegood, emerging from a broom cupboard of all places, trying to straighten her skirt and tuck her shirt back in. Ginny was about to giggle as she waited around to see who the lucky boy was. Any laughter that she might have found related to the situation died suddenly when who should walk out of the cupboard behind the girl then Harry Potter. He was also tucking his shirt back in, while attempting to flatten his hair and righting his skewed glasses._

_The knife was sharp, but that didn't make the pain any less. Before she could stop herself, Ginny gasped. The guilty parts turned at the noise. _

_Luna stared at her blankly, no expression whatsoever._

"_Hey, Ginny," she said, as though they were meeting in the library. _

_Harry, at least, had the decency to look upset. He turned to mutter to his companion, "Luna, I'll catch you later."_

"_Sure thing, Harry." And without another word, she was gone._

_Ginny mentally kicked herself, but she didn't even have the presence of mind to run away as Harry approached._ Stupid blighter, really should have taken his wand out as a precaution.

"_Ginny," he began lamely, not really knowing where to begin._

"_What, Harry? Are you going to try to deny what I just saw?" She was amazed that she wasn't screaming._ Maybe she was still in shock.

"_No," he answered, looking like a puppy who had just been kicked._

"_Are you going to tell me that 'it wasn't what it looked like?'" she asked, voice getting a little louder._

"_No," he admitted._

"_Then what?!?!" she yelled, finally, "What are you going to say?"_

"_That it doesn't matter."_

"_And that is supposed to make it better?"_

"_Well, yeah." Apparently, that made everything better in Stupid Harry Potter Land._

"_Well, it doesn't, you stupid choad. It actually makes it worse." _

_With that, she had turned on her heel and walked as resignedly as she could to Myrtle's bathroom, where she wept for two hours. Two long, lonely hours, until Hermione found her. Then she spent the next hour and a half quietly sobbing, pulled into a ball at Hermione's side while the older girl just let her cry it out. Hermione didn't really say much. She waited for Ginny to talk. She did, however, offer to make both Luna, and Harry (Ginny_ _was delighted to hear) EXTREMELY uncomfortable for the foreseeable future._

But Ginny hadn't wanted to call down her enforcers for this. This was something she wanted to handle herself.

That day had been two weeks before. She almost felt that every step she had taken in all those fourteen days had led her here, to this moment, to his doorstep.

"Tell me something, Draco," he eyed her warily as she moved to sit beside him on the couch. She had never used his first name before. It was lulling him into her eyes. "Do you find me attractive?"

"Not particularly," he drawled. To his surprise, she didn't get all worked up over that little comment. Instead, she slid closer to him.

"Not even a little bit?" she asked, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes.

"Well," he was feeling indulgent, "maybe a little bit."

"Tell me something," she asked, looking up into his eyes as she slid herself right up against him and put her hand on his leg, "how do you feel about revenge?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Notes: **I thought this was supposed to be a Ron/Hermione story. Draco and Ginny seem to be taking it over!

Thanks to my awesome beta, Kiri, who helps make sense of my ramblings!

Enjoy!

It was raining.

As a child, Hermione had always loved the rain. She used to sit in her bedroom window during summer storms and watch as the drops hit the panes; never the same pattern, never in the same spot. It was beautiful. And the soft thudding noises the rain made was like music, sometimes singing her to sleep.

Now she liked the rain for a different reason.

When it rained, Ron didn't have Quidditch practice, which meant that he had a whole two hours to devote solely to her. Two hours without prefect meetings, or homework, or rounds, or anything. One hundred twenty minutes to spend with her.

And that's where she found herself this rainy Saturday afternoon in late October. Ron lay on his back on her bed, she, curled into his side. Just laying there, reading, dozing, talking. It was perfect. She had waited a lifetime for this, and it was sure worth the wait.

She squeezed her arm around his chest and rolled her head up so she could see his face.

"What?" he asked, small smile playing on his lips as one arm (not the one that was around her, the other one) went immediately to play with her hair.

"Just thinking."

"Well, you're _always_ thinking. Was there something specifically you wanted to talk about or are you letting your brain just run amok?"

"Well, since you asked, I was just thinking that I've never been happier than I am at this moment."

Well, after a comment like that, there was really nothing he could do but lean forward and kiss her. She should be rewarded for complimenting him in such a manner.

"Me too," he replied after backing away from her face, "although I do feel that there is a big 'but' headed my way in this conversation." She narrowed her eyes at him playfully.

"I didn't say that."

"It feels like your going to; something along the lines of 'but everyone else is so unhappy…'" Hermione plopped her head back on Ron's chest.

He was pretty sure he heard her say "everyone else can sod off" into his shirt.

"Well, Ms. Granger, I am appalled at your language!" he teased as he wrapped both arms around her. Not only was this an effective way to keep her near him, it was also a safety precaution. Rage-filled limbs knew no direction. He relaxed a bit when he felt her laughing against him. "Honestly, I am beginning to think that Malfoy is a bad influence on you."

"Then you should be sure to be around more to counteract that bad influence," she looked up at him once more, "why do I get the feeling that you are the one with the big 'but?'" She stared him down until he sighed and cracked. He never should have used that trick on her. She picked it up much too quickly.

"You know I'm happy, right?"

"Yes."

"And you know that I wouldn't change what's happened between us for anything, right?"

"But you feel guilty that we're happy, and those closest to us are not."

"Kinda, yeah. I mean, Harry and Ginny are putting up a good front and all, but it's just on the surface, just a…what do you call it?"

"Façade?"

"Yeah, a façade. I don't know what Ginny's trying to do, but honestly, it just pushed Harry closer to Luna. He's in a right state."

"How can you push someone to where they are already?" Hermione asked as she sat up and screwed a dirty look on her face. _Oh, here we go_. Ron sat up.

In the fallout of the events a week previously, Ron and Hermione had had several heated discussions on the topic of Harry and Luna and Ginny and Draco. Finally, when both became frustrated that the relationships of other people where screwing up their own, they declared a moratorium on the subject. Things had gone a lot more smoothly, for them anyway, afterwards.

Ron was actually quite shocked with the fury that Hermione held against Harry for his actions. He could only assume that perhaps this situation hit a little too close to home for her. He understood; he kind of felt that way himself sometimes. It didn't seem to matter to Ginny or Hermione that Harry wasn't "in love" with Luna, that they were just enjoying themselves. In fact, that appeared to make the situation worse.

The situation had just spiraled into the realm of the bizarre, and he was downright scared at how quickly and how clearly the battle lines were drawn. Hermione did not feel one ounce of sympathy for Harry, even after, or especially after, Ginny and Draco had begun dating. Ron knew that Hermione still kept an eye on Harry and they were still friends, but she had made it abundantly clear that she was very angry with Harry for his decisions. Ron understood the temptation that Luna must have brought Harry. He understood the hormonal urges that Harry was going through, he had them too. While he was pissed that Ginny was hurting because of it, he would rather have his friend getting his rocks off somewhere else than ravaging his sister. Therefore, Ron had been on the fence.

Until Ginny announced that she was dating Draco Malfoy.

_Draco Malfoy for Christ's sake!_

Ron really was starting to believe that Draco had cast some sort of mesmerism charm on both Hermione and Ginny. Here were two perfectly intelligent, usually sane, females who had considered him an enemy up until that year. Now one was living with him and the other was dating him. It defied logic.

Believing, or at least telling himself, that two wrongs don't make a right, Ron had sided with Harry. He also spent as much time in Hermione's suite as possible, trying to keep an eye on the git. Being around his girlfriend was just an added benefit.

Hence the stress on Ron and Hermione's relationship.

_So why were they bringing it up now?_

Hermione took a deep breath. "Things have been going really well with us. Why are we starting this discussion again when we know exactly where it will lead?"

"Dunno…" Ron sighed as he pushed himself into a sitting position against the headboard, "why can't everything just be perfect?"

"And what would perfect look like?" her voice was soft, matching the way her face looked when he met her eyes.

"Well, Harry and Ginny would stop being stupid, for one thing," Ron huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked away from her. He couldn't look at her and be so honest. "They should be going out, in a nice, committed, _completely sexless_ relationship."

"Sexless, huh?" she giggled a little bit.

"Sexless until they get married anyway, you know, like a decade from now."

"That's a long time."

"Not really, not if you really love the person…"

_How romantic Ron was_, Hermione thought, _and how conservative_.

"Ok, so Harry and Ginny dating only each other, with no sex involved, for ten years. And that would be perfect? What about Draco?"

"He can go jump off a cliff, for all I care." Hermione laughed.

"Suicide for Draco, then. What about you?"

"What about me?" he sounded slightly annoyed.

"So far, your picture of perfect is just for other people. Where does Ron Weasley fit into all this?"

"I fit here," he said, still not looking at her, but reaching out to take her hand in his, "you're perfect, and I'm…well…I'm working on it."

She didn't say anything, and it scared the hell out of him. He didn't feel brave enough to raise his eyes until he felt her other hand close over his. Her mouth was hanging open and she had an awestruck expression on her face.

"That's the most amazing thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Well…I did say I was working on it."

Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team stood in the locker room waiting to take the field for another game. Everyone was ready, except for one.

"Where's Ron?" asked Colin. Harry made a face and pointed to the bathroom where someone could be heard retching. Colin also made a face.

"He's still doing that?" asked Lavender, adjusting her robes.

"It's been three years, you'd think he'd be used to it by now," replied Harry.

"Maybe he should stop eating before the games," reasoned Dean.

"He gets worse if he doesn't eat," answered Harry again.

"Oh, come on," said Ginny, walking to the bathroom door and pounding on it, "Ron, we have to go! Get out here. You're our Keeper for crying out loud." The door opened and a very pale Ron stuck his head out. Satisfied, the rest of the team grabbed their gear and headed for the field.

"You alright?" asked Harry, helping his friend.

"You ask me every game, and every game, I'm fine."

"Yeah, you'd better be, I want that Quidditch Cup this year."

"And I want that perfect record. Let's go."

The triumphant Gryffindor team flew out onto the field to the sound of cheers from their housemates in the stands. Seamus Finnegan's voice came over the loud speaker to announce them.

Hermione and Neville stood together in the Gryffindor stands wearing the jerseys of their favorite Weasleys with Parvati, Hagrid, and Luna. Ginny had asked her best cheerleader, Neville, to wear her extra jersey. Hermione had _somehow_ acquired Ron's. She looked at her boyfriend through binoculars.

"He looks so pale," she said.

"He was probably throwing up again," replied Neville.

"After three years, you'd think he'd be used to it by now," reasoned Parvati.

"This is Ron we're talking about," quipped Neville.

Hermione kept her eyes on her boyfriend.

"Look up, look up," she repeated quietly.

Ron's eyes met hers through the lens.

"There he is!" she cried, thrusting her arm into the air and waving furiously.

"Hermione, how do you even know he sees you?" asked Luna.

"He knows," said Neville as Hermione continued to wave.

Ron scanned the Gryffindor stands just as he did before every game, looking for Hermione. Well, he wasn't really looking since he couldn't actually see her. He just moved his eyes over the crowd until he got a tingle in his spine. For some reason, Ron always kind of thought that the tingles were a signal that she was near. He got about halfway through the stands when he felt it. He shot his hand up and waved.

"How do you even know where she is?" asked Lavender.

"Oh," replied Harry, "he knows."

It was a great game, ending in yet another Gryffindor victory. Ron and Harry left the locker room with Dean and Lavender to find their friends. Seamus, Neville, Parvati, and Hermione stood in a clump in the hallway.

Ron went over to his girlfriend to get his kiss.

"The two of you are so cute, I think I'm getting a toothache," remarked Parvati.

"Well, Parvati dear, from now on we will keep your dental health foremost in mind," quipped Ron, "Where's Ginny gone off too? We thought she had gone out early to meet up with you all."

"She's fighting with Malfoy," supplied Neville.

"We don't know that," said Parvati.

"Well, he didn't look too happy when he saw her," said Seamus.

"Well, that's not good," said Harry absently. Hermione glared at him, while everyone pretended not to notice.

Just then, Ginny walked down the hall. She looked very angry and was so flushed her skin nearly matched her hair. She joined the group with arms crossed over her chest.

"Everything alright?" asked Hermione.

"Just ducky," Ginny replied.

"I see, so you are just going for that 'all over red' look, then?" teased Ron. Then he got serious, "Need me to go kick his ass?"

Ginny smiled. "I don't think that will be necessary. I gave him a pretty good verbal ass kicking."

"Well, you've gotta love that Weasley temper," said Harry, putting one arm around Ginny's shoulders, "Let's go get some food. I'm starved."

"Yeah, and I'm sure that Ron needs to replace all the food that he threw up before the game," said Lavender.

"Oh, Ron, are you still doing that?" voiced a very concerned Hermione, "It's been three years!"

"I know, I know, I know…" said Ron tiredly as they made their way down the hall.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** Huzzah!!! Chapter 18! We are almost there! I really enjoyed this chapter.

Also, in passing, Ron and Hermione will mention what takes place in my story "Faerie Tale." If you haven't already read that, you may want to take a look so that things make more sense. It isn't _necessary_, but the short allows me to go a bit deeper.

Once again, I must give mad props to Fool4Sasuke33, who is the most awesome-est beta EVER!!!!

Enjoy!

"Very good, Miss Granger, you're getting better," McGonagal praised as she watched Hermione wearily try to stand. Feeling chivalrous, Draco walked over. Offering her a hand, he hauled her up from her previous ass-flat-on-the-floor position.

"This doesn't _feel_ like it's getting any easier," he muttered conspiratorially to Hermione. She grimaced in agreement and rubbed her hind-end with her free hand.

"I think I broke my coccyx," she whined. They moved once again into position on the other side of the empty classroom.

McGonagal hadn't forgotten her promise of additional classes, first mentioned to them during their meeting in the summer. What Draco and Hermione didn't know was that those lessons included additional defense techniques as well as transformation into an animal. McGonagal was turning them into animagi.

The theory was that the two of them would be able to better "keep an eye" on things in another form. Whether this specifically meant spying on students or employing a different method of surveillance on the grounds neither teen could quite decide.

In any case, now, at the beginning of November, both had gotten transforming down. Oddly enough, both of their alternate forms were birds. Hermione became a falcon and Draco, an eagle. The hard part was mastering the animals' talents, especially flight.

McGonagal had them in her transfiguration classroom this Thursday evening on the pretense of having a meeting. The new headmistress had become quite paranoid in her three months in the position. She saw spies and traitors everywhere, and forced Draco and Hermione to keep their extra-curricular lessons a secret.

The desks had been cleared away and the big, empty room left plenty of space to fly around. At least, in theory.

"Professor, I don't think this is going to work," Hermione began hesitantly, knowing the thin ice she had wandered out onto, "don't falcons glide on air currents instead of fly?"

"Hmm…," McGonagal mused, "is that what your instincts are telling you?"

"Er, I guess," replied Hermione. Normally, Hermione was very excited at the prospect of new and difficult spells. This situation had not started out any differently. She wasn't afraid of the work and she didn't mind the extra hours, but she was starting to feel frustrated at her lack of improvement. Plus, she was sore in muscles she didn't know she had AND was pretty sure she would be sporting some lovely bruises tomorrow. How she would excuse those away, she had no idea.

McGonagal sighed angrily. "Miss Granger, when you transform, you _become_ a falcon. That animal has certain instincts. It will want to behave in a certain way, it will want to do certain things. At this stage, it is important for you to allow this to happen. Otherwise, you will never be able to truly act as a falcon. Eventually, the instinct will start to overtake you, and you will forget to turn back into a human, but that is a lesson for another day. For now, what we must concentrate on is _becoming_ your animal."

The thought of forgetting or not wanting to turn back into a human completely terrified Hermione. She wasn't sure if her mind would relinquish that much control. Her brief glance at Draco told her that he felt the exact same way.

McGonagal turned from them to retrieve her wand. "This time, you will transform and begin to fly. I will conjure the necessary wind currents."

Hermione and Draco stood side by side across the room from her. They took a deep breath and began to change.

She felt the strange pull in her stomach, felt her body become smaller. The temperature began to feel different, she no longer saw colors in the same way. Suddenly, she had an incredible desire to be in the air, high above everything else. She wanted something, to hunt something, but she didn't exactly know what she was looking for. _Things look stupid from down on the ground._ She needed to be up. She reached her arms out to climb but they were not arms any more. They were wings. _Oh, well, that makes sense,_ she thought as she stretched them, _that will allow me to get much higher than frail, little arms._ She turned her head to the side and saw a giant eagle standing next to her. She narrowed her eyes. _Whatever I want, he's going to get if I don't get a move on._ She screeched at him and began flapping her wings. Movements in the air carried her up, and up, and up. Now all she had to do was find one that fit and float on it, looking for whatever it was that she wanted on the ground below. She screeched again when she realized that the eagle was following her.

_Get your own damn hunting ground!_

She left her wings out and felt the rush of wind through her feathers as she circled the floor below. There was a woman there, but she was entirely too big. She wanted something else, something _smaller_. And furry, and difficult to catch. She wanted the rush of the hunt. She would have it. She just needed to be patient.

Suddenly, something grabbed her attention out of the corner of her eye. _A mouse!_ She dove, and as the ground headed toward her at a sickening speed, Hermione had the disturbing thought, _this is probably going to hurt if I don't slow down._ She began arguing with herself. She _really_ wanted that mouse, but she had to move fast to get it. But if she moved fast and lost control, she would crash, and that would be _very_ painful, perhaps even fatal.

_Stop, stop, STOP!_ She lost her concentration and forced herself back into her human form. Unfortunately, she was still about seven feet off the floor. She screamed during freefall and hit the ground with a resounding thud.

McGonagal rushed over. Draco landed rather gracelessly and walked dizzily over toward his classmate.

"Hermione?" he shoved at her shoulder. McGonagal was already conjuring a liter to take her to the hospital wing. Hermione was unconscious.

Ron stood in the Head suite common room and looked around. _How could they both still be at a meeting? What the hell was McGonagal going on about?_ The sound of frantic footsteps up the stairs caused him to turn.

Draco burst through the door and stopped short at the sight of him.

"There you are!" he cried, "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" he grabbed Ron's forearm and tried to physically drag him away. Ron, however, would not be moved.

"Wait, wait, hold on, what are you babbling about?"

"It's Hermione," Draco panted, "she's in the hospital wing. I'm supposed to find you and bring you there."

"Wait, what happened?"

"I don't have time to give you the details, dammit," Draco groused, "let's just go!"

The hospital wing was peculiarly empty. Hermione was the only patient. She reclined on one of the beds, propped up by pillows. An ice pack was on her head. She turned to see who entered at the sound of the door. That was a mistake, as it sent the really muscular clogging team and bell ringers in her head to start up their routine again.

"Ugh," she moaned.

"Bloody hell, honey, what happened to you?" Ron rushed over. She smiled drunkenly at him.

"I should injure myself more often, you look so cute when you're concerned," she mumbled, patting his cheek in a rhythmless way. Ron turned to Draco.

"What happened to her?"

"Er, she fell," he gulped nervously, "she's pretty drugged up right now, so that would explain the bizarre behavior." Hermione was currently trying to trace a line that didn't exist in the pattern on the sheets. It turned out to be a strand of her hair. Ron put her hands back in her lap and she grinned stupidly at him.

"What the hell kind of meeting were you having that caused her to fall so hard she needs drugs?" Ron turned wide eyes on Draco. Now the blond looked even more terrified than before.

"You have to ask McGonagal," he squeaked. Luckily, the headmistress was currently entering the ward with Madame Pomfrey.

"She'll be fine," said the nurse, "but she has a concussion, so you have to keep her awake for 24 hours."

"What happened?" repeated Ron, keeping his voice as congenial as possible, despite his annoyance. These were professors, after all.

"Well, what did Mr. Malfoy tell you?" asked McGonagal.

_Why that cagey old bat!_

"He said she fell," answered Ron tiredly, "where did she fall so hard that she got a concussion?"

McGonagal pursed her lips. "From what I would guess, it was about 2 meters," when Ron just gaped at her, she sighed, "Very well, Mr. Malfoy, you can tell Mr. Weasley exactly what you were doing in my classroom. But Mr. Weasley, I do NOT expect that information to leave your immediate circle of friends." She turned cold eyes on him.

The headmistress was known for being a hard ass, but there were a handful of students who seemed to get away with very nearly murder. Ron knew that he and his sister, his girlfriend, and his best friend made up that group. Whether it was because of their knowledge of the Order, or her bias towards Gryffindor, he couldn't quite tell.

_Maybe she has faith in us._

_No, that couldn't possibly be it._

McGonagal rightly assumed that Harry and Ginny would be told soon, if not immediately, what antics Hermione and Draco were up to during the meetings with the headmistress. How Draco Malfoy suddenly got into the inner circle, he wasn't too clear on and didn't particularly like. But he was Head Boy, and so far, had been keeping his nose clean, so Ron couldn't complain too loudly.

"So she has to stay in the infirmary for 24 hours?" Ron asked.

"Well, no, you can take her to her room," replied Madame Pomfrey, "but someone has to keep her awake."

"I would prefer a female student," continued McGonagal, looking hard at Ron.

"Well, Ginny could…" suggested Draco.

"Oh, no! The only way Ginny is spending the night in the head suite is if I sleep in your doorway," Ron accentuated his point by stabbing Draco in the chest with his finger.

"Yay! We're having a slumber party!" Hermione cried giddily from the bed.

"Very well, I will send a message to Miss Weasley that she will be spending the night in the Head Suite. I assume that means that the invitation will also be extended to Mr. Potter, since he will more than likely break any rules necessary to be part of the _fun_. However, all five of you are required to attend class tomorrow. Obviously Miss Granger will not need to do any work, but it will allow the rest of you to keep an eye on her without neglecting your own studies."

"Thank you, Professor," Draco said.

"Yeah, thanks," added Ron. Ron reached down to scoop Hermione up and carry her back to her room.

"I love you," she said to him, placing a hand on his chest and meeting his eyes with her own dizzy ones.

"I know, sweetheart, I love you too," Ron sighed, walking toward the door.

Draco made a face and followed them. _Thank God there would be two other people there tonight,_ he thought. _If I have to listen to these two for a full 24 hours, I am liable to vomit all over my rooms._

It was very _weird_ dating him. Ginny honestly never thought it would ever happen in a million years. But then again, she also thought that Dumbledore was pretty much immortal and that Harry would have killed Voldemort by now.

_Such is life…things never turn out like you plan._

It's not that he was a terrible boyfriend. He was awfully nice to look at, that was for sure. It was especially noticeable now that he stopped sneering so often. Who knew that Draco Malfoy had a nice smile? Or that the person that would make him laugh out loud would be her own brother? Not that she would ever say anything about it. He would deny it with every breath in his body.

He was courteous when he wanted to be. She would usually find him waiting outside her classrooms, ready to walk her to her next class. He had a wicked sense of humor, and he did make her laugh.

He genuinely did care about people, although they were few and far between. In addition to Pansy and a handful of other Slytherin girls, he seemed especially protective over Hermione for some bizarre reason. It was as though he was just waiting for Ron to screw something up and that he would be the only one there to clean up the fallout.

Hermione indulged Draco in this, telling Ginny that it was good for him to feel important and needed by someone else. Ginny could only look on in wonder at how her friend was single-handedly grooming the two most eligible (basically) and most difficult boys in all of Hogwarts.

But Ginny liked to feel as though she was doing her part, at least where Draco was concerned. She found herself repeating that mantra to herself often whenever he got to be a pain in the ass. Which did happen from time to time.

Draco had been spoiled since the minute he was born; everyone knew this. In many ways, he was still just a large child. One given to temper tantrums at the drop of a hat. During such situations, Ginny would talk to him _like_ a child.

"Well, Draco, if you are going to pitch a fit, break things, and make a mess, then _you_ will have to clean it up."

"I most certainly will _not_ talk to the house elves for you and ask them to starch that shirt. It's your own fault they don't like you, _you_ deal with it!"

"I know you didn't just ask me to get you something to eat. I AM NOT your servant!"

But still there was something missing. It went beyond the fact that they were in rival houses. It went beyond the fact that he was a Deatheater, or had almost been, and she was from a family of blood traitors. No, it was something else. Some _spark_ that was missing.

She gathered her books after Potions and headed for the door. Sure enough, there was the flash of white-blond hair, waiting for her.

"Hey," she smiled in greeting, ignoring the looks and hushed whispers of her classmates. That had taken some time, but she was getting better at not paying the gossipmongers any attention.

"Hey," he returned, turning to fall into step beside her, "so, Muggle Studies next, yeah?"

"You remembered," she smiled. They walked along, side by side, silently. Had he been Harry, she would have embraced and probably kissed him. Had he been Dean, she would be holding his hand right now. But she never touched Draco, and he never touched her. It was as if they were scared to. Draco had a very clear and reasonable reason to avoid any sort of physical relationship with Ginny. Ron would kill him. As in murder-death, broken-body-at-the-foot-of-Gryffindor-Tower, no-longer-breathing, -KILL him. And it wouldn't be quick either; Ron would be sure to make Draco suffer. Draco knew Deatheaters that were more merciful.

Plus, he told himself, he was just doing a job. She wanted revenge, he LOVED revenge. She set the rules and he followed them in this situation. Granted, it wasn't what he would do, but she was still learning, so he cut her some slack. She had never once touched him after their little "agreement" had been solidified. And in a way, he was glad.

There was a part of him that felt as though touching Ginny, or anything else normal dating couples did would just be too _weird_. He supposed if she jumped him, there would really be nothing for it but to reciprocate, but he would probably have to have his mind on something else to get the job done. Thankfully, it hadn't gotten that far.

"Hey, what do you say we skiv off classes and just go hangout outside by the pitch? It's still relatively nice out," she suggested.

"Sure."

"You won't miss anything important?"

"No, I've DADA now," he shrugged and turned towards the doors, "not like I'd actually be learning anything in _that_ class. Besides, Granger will let me copy her notes later on."

"So you've got her wrapped around your finger too, eh?" He chuckled.

"Oh, hell, no. I'll just beg until she relents. I don't usually ask, so she might be feeling more agreeable to it."

They walked out into the bright day. It was just a little chilly, but thankfully full robes kept out most of the bite from the wind. They climbed the bleachers and sat, very democratically choosing the professors' stands as a kind of neutral territory.

"So, why are you blowing off Muggle Studies?"

"Luna's in that class," she wouldn't look at him.

"Well, if Potty's going to collect her afterwards, that's where we should be, hamming it up."

"That would be true, if there were a point." Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. "This isn't working."

"It's not?"

"No," she turned to face him, "he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice. It's like I'm eleven years old all over again." Draco chewed on this for a while.

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, I feel guilty…"

"Oh, Christ!" he exclaimed, throwing a pebble down to the field below.

"Wait, let me finish. I feel guilty to _you_. You could actually be with somebody you liked instead of concocting pointless machinations with me."

"_Pointless machinations_?" he smiled at her.

"Well, that's what they are. We aren't a real couple. And to be honest, for me I think you make better 'friend' material than you do 'boyfriend' material."

"Why do you say that?" he actually looked insulted by the statement.

"There's the fact that you won't touch me."

"Oh," he quickly looked away.

"Don't worry, Draco. No one will think any less of you. There are plenty of wildly successful gay people out there. No one will hold anything against you if you don't like girls…" he sputtered and turned furious eyes on her, only to see her smiling that teasing smile.

"That's not funny!"

"You make it too easy."

"You're lucky I don't chuck you off these bleachers," but he was smiling, "besides, I never see you trying to touch me either."

"No, I don't," she quietly admitted, "I'm much too scared of you to do that."

"Scared?"

"Yeah, I guess. I can't really explain it. Suffice it to say, I think maybe it would be best if we called off this whole fake-dating-revenge scheme and just spent the rest of the year as friends."

"You know what?" he leaned back on the bleachers behind him, but turned his head to look at her, "I think that's probably a pretty good idea."

"That doesn't mean, however," she leaned in close to him, "that you can't help me think up ingenious ways to torture Harry in the meantime."

A slow half-smile crept onto his face.

"Oh, I think I could help you with that."

"I can't believe we're doing this," Hermione said breathlessly as Ron tugged harder on her hand, "this is completely ridiculous."

"It is not ridiculous," replied Ron, "it's tradition."

The brightly lit windows of Madame Puddifoot's came into view. The first Hogsmeade weekend was colder than the Hogwarts community had expected, especially with the recent warm weather. Apparently, winter really was coming, and was starting to make its presence known. There were even flurries occasionally falling from the sky. They melted immediately upon contact with the ground, but they were still there.

"Who's tradition?" Hermione continued to try to protest. Ron refused to answer; instead he stopped in front of the door and opened it gallantly for Hermione.

"Thank you," she replied tartly, walking before him through the door. She waited for him to enter and then followed him to the hostess' stand.

"Weasley, party of two," he smiled at the waitress. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Certainly, sir," the petite waitress gathered some menus, "if you'll follow me, please." Ron stood back and allowed Hermione to follow directly behind her as she walked off in the opposite direction of the huge picture window at the front of the shop. _Thank God!_

"I can't believe you are making such a fuss over this," Ron began, undoing his jacket as they walked to the table, "can't I take my girlfriend out on a real date without our best friend, or my sister, or your stupid prat of a roommate tagging along? How often do we get to do something outside your room that's just us?" Both Hermione and the waitress turned shocked expressions on him.

"That's not what I meant!" he sputtered at the waitress, "I mean something outside Hogwarts." Thankfully, the waitress left and Hermione just grinned at him as she sat down. He mimicked her, sitting down and opening his menu. _Did they serve nothing but saccharine nonsense at this place? Hermione was right, they would have been better off at the Three Broomsticks or the Hog's Head. _He looked up to see Hermione pursing her lips.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, I just didn't expect this place to be as pricey as it is. I don't know if I brought enough cash," she answered without thinking.

"What are you worried about? I'm paying." _Great, now he looked insulted_.

"Ron…"

"Don't start! You're _my_ girlfriend, and we are out on our _first_ official date, and _I_ am paying; end of story."

Despite the itch to argue that just because she was his girlfriend didn't mean that she had suddenly become a dependent, Hermione remained silent. This was so important to him; she didn't want to ruin it.

"I've got the money, you know." _Why was he still harping on this?_

"Ok."

"I did spend all summer working, you know."

"I know, Ron. I guess, in some ways, I am just more liberal than you are. I think that a girl should be prepared to pay for herself when she goes out. It's even within the realm of possibility that _she_ might treat _her boyfriend_ on a date." She added that last bit just to tease him, though she fully intended on paying next time, even if she had to hex him to do it. When she looked up from her menu, he was staring slack-jawed at her. She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face. _He was too cute._ She swore she heard him muttering something about "whacked-out Muggles" under his breath.

"Just get whatever you want," he finally responded, opening the menu in front of him once again.

She crossed her arms on the table and looked at him. "I already have everything I want." He wouldn't look at her, but she could see the tops of his ears turning red.

"Anything you want _from the menu_." He sounded a little exasperated. And this was entirely too much fun.

The waitress returned, and they ordered. After she left, Ron looked as though he was preparing himself for something. Hermione sat back expectantly. When it looked as though he was going to loose his nerve, she prodded him.

"Was there anything in particular that you wanted to talk about, or should I choose a topic?" Poor boy looked a bit startled.

"Well, it's just…er…do you remember the other day, when you fell during your 'meeting' with McGonagal?" Hermione frowned.

"I remember bits and pieces." She _really_ didn't want to talk about that meeting.

"It's just that, well, you said something to me when we were leaving the hospital wing and I was just wondering if what you said was true or if it was just the drugs talking." _Hmm…this was interesting._

"What did I say?" Hermione honestly didn't know what exactly he was referring to, but she was happy that whatever it was did not involve her turning into a bird. Ron took a deep breath.

"You…well, you said that you loved me." He refused to look at her. Hermione couldn't breathe. Had she really said that? Had she really told him? And in some completely stupid situation when she was all doped up on painkillers? She wanted to crawl into a hole. She had always imagined some incredibly romantic setting when she told Ron that she loved him. Not the hospital wing, for crying out loud!!! Although, with their rather bizarre relationship, from the time they met until now, AND all the time they had spent in the hospital wing either as patients or visiting each other, it made a strange sort of sense.

"Oh," she said, realizing at last that Ron was most likely desperately waiting for some sort of reaction, "no, I didn't remember that I told you that."

"Did you mean it?" he had gained some courage from somewhere and was looking her in the face now. She held his eyes.

"Yes." He smiled.

"What did you say in response?" She wasn't about to let him get off the hook so easily.

"I told you I loved you too." She couldn't help the smile that burst on her face or the warmth in her stomach at his words. She placed her napkin in her lap as the waitress arrived with their food.

"Are you ever going to say it again?" Ron asked after they were once again alone. Hermione just looked at him.

"It would just be nice to hear, you know, when you weren't all inebriated." Apparently, her silence irritated him. She put her fork down and leaned forward on the table. She looked directly at him.

"I love you, Ron." He smiled at that, finally.

"Like I said, it's nice to hear."

"Well, you should expect to hear it more often from now on."

"Is that so?"

"Yes; saying it the first time is the hardest, or so I've been told. From here on in, it should be a piece of cake." They grinned at each other.

"Does it seem odd to you that the first time I told you I loved you was in the hospital wing?" Hermione asked after a few bites of her pot pie.

"Honestly, no. We've spent quite a few hours there over the years," Ron replied, "although, for you I think the library would have been more appropriate."

"Oh, ha ha ha."

"A lot of interesting things have happened in the hospital wing," he took a deep breath again, "and since we're being so honest, I should confess that I was awake."

"When?"

"After I fell out of the boat and into the water in September. When you and Harry were having your little discussion about me. I was awake."

"Oh." Hermione felt naked. She had given away a lot about her feelings that day. The trauma and her emotions made her reckless.

"What _would_ you do had you lost me?"

"That's not funny, Ron. I try not to think about it." He sobered instantly. She was right, _surprise, surprise_. Even though they had been given a grace period and were ignoring the danger that was out there, that didn't mean that it wasn't just that: out there.

"Sorry."

"It's all right," she put her fork down, "since we're both being so honest, I guess I should confess that I was awake in the hospital wing too."

"When?"

"After the Department of Mysteries."

"Oh." He didn't look particularly happy at the memory. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"It never seemed like a good time. And then suddenly you were snogging Lavender…and…well, I started to think that I had imagined the whole thing. Why didn't _you_ ever mention it?"

"What was I supposed to say, 'Hey Hermione, back when you were passed out I kissed you?' That sounds like a one-way ticket to getting my bits hexed off. No thanks."

"Hmm…well, I guess that's understandable."

"That was my first kiss you know."

"Really?!?!" Hermione was just delighted to hear that.

"Yes. You don't have to look so incredibly happy about it."

"Why not? This just gives me another thing to tell Lavender to bugger off about."

"Why Hermione, I had no idea you were so vengeful."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's cute, in a dark and twisted sort of way."


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Notes:** Things are moving along…this chapter is pretty heavy.

Oh, yeah, the events in this chapter do not reflect either the author, or the beta, promoting underage alcohol abuse. I am poor, you won't get anything if you sue. Haha!

Much love to Fool4Sasuke33 for her awesome beta skills!

It's rather amazing that a person could focus on any one thing in the midst of the insanity that was the Great Hall during feeding time. The four long tables were completely packed with students as lunch was served this bitterly cold December afternoon. Despite the noise, and Hermione's hand on his leg as she sat beside him, and the really tasty shepherd's pie, something made Ron look up. He noticed Madame Pomfrey, who was rarely, if ever, seen outside the hospital wing, walk up to Draco Malfoy.

In the spirit of détente, Draco had taken to sitting with his back to the wall, so that he could face the Gryffindor table. Today, Ron happened to be seated on the side of the table opposite the Slytherins. He looked on as the medi-witch approached Draco, handed him a piece of paper, patted him lightly on the shoulder, and walked away.

"Something's wrong," the words were out of his mouth without him even realizing that he was speaking.

"What is it, Ron?" Hermione looked up from her notes.

"I dunno, but something's wrong," he stared at Draco, who met his eye briefly before getting up from the table and leaving the room. Hermione's eyes followed to where Ron was looking. "We should follow him."

"Ginny," Hermione called softly to her friend, interrupting her discussion with Parvati. Upon meeting the younger girl's eyes, Hermione jerked her head in the direction Draco was walking. The red-head nodded once and gathered her things. Before Ron could turn around to tell Harry where they were all going, the two girls were off.

"What's all this, then?" asked Harry, suddenly appearing, books in hand, at Ron's shoulder. _Apparently he refuses to be left behind today._

"Something's wrong with Draco," Ron answered, standing and looking at his friend.

"Only _one_ thing? That's seems a grossly low exaggeration."

"Yes, well, the girls are going after him…"

"So we had better go after the girls," Harry interrupted, already walking toward the door.

For some masochistic reason, Draco had chosen to go outside by the lake, despite the freezing cold. Ron and Harry caught up to Ginny and Hermione before they reached him completely. Hermione valiantly led the charge, approaching him slowly while the other three held back a bit.

"Draco?" Hermione asked softly when she was within arm's reach of him. He wouldn't turn around. The seconds ticked by slowly.

"My mother is dead." He finally turned his tear-streaked face toward her. Hermione felt her face scrunch up. Not being able to stand the sight of sympathetic tears, he turned around once more and plopped down on the ground. Hermione sat beside him, entwining her arms with his as she cuddled up against him, and laid her head on his shoulder. Ginny pushed past Harry and sat at Draco's other side, mirroring Hermione's position and holding his hand.

"What happened?" Ron asked after he had seated himself behind Hermione, hands rubbing her back.

"I'm not exactly sure," Draco croaked before coughing to clear his throat, "this note simply said that her body was found at our villa in the Loire Valley."

"Had she been hit with a spell?" asked Hermione softly.

"I don't know. But I would assume yes, since she was in good health," Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "she had been there for awhile."

"Oh Draco," Ginny whispered, turning her face to wipe her tears on his shoulder.

"Why are you all out here with me?" he asked quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer, not really wanting to remind them that they were, or maybe only "used to be," enemies, not really wanting to admit that he was holding onto Hermione and Ginny a little too tightly, not really ready to accept the fact that he needed them right now.

"We're here because we are your friends," Hermione said as Ginny squeezed his hand, "and this is what friends do for each other when bad things happen."

"But aren't you happy that another Deatheater is dead?" he asked.

"Well, was she?" countered Ron.

"She hadn't been marked or initiated, but she knew what was going on. That's bad enough."

"She's still your mother," Ginny replied, "that could be any of our mothers."

At this, Harry felt his heart twist inside his chest. _Yes, it could be any of __**their**__ mothers._ _Couldn't be __**his,**__ could it?_ _Of course not, __**his**__ mother had been dead for years._ He looked at the ground and kicked a rock. _Oh, yes, let's all faun all over Draco. Poor, sad, sod. Mum killed, blah blah blah…_

His train of thought left him cold. For Christ sake, the guy had just found out that his _mother_ had been killed! Wasn't Harry supposed to be one of the good guys? Didn't Draco, nasty bugger that he was, deserve some sort of condolence at this time?

Feeling totally disgusted with himself, Harry hugged his robes to his body, in a vain effort to warm up. The robes weren't capable of protecting him from the cold that was within. He probably would have turned on his heel and left the four of them there, comforting each other. He should. He didn't deserve to be with good people if he was going to be such a total asshole.

He _would have_ left, if Ginny's movement hadn't caught his notice. She turned sad eyes up to look at him. For a moment they just stared at each other over a sea of pain and frustration. Then Ginny did something miraculous. Using her free hand, she reached for him.

Whimpering a little to himself, Harry stumbled forward and took her hand. He sat behind her right side, folding his legs around her and placing his forehead on her shoulder. Ginny put her head atop his and squeezed his hand.

"I can't believe everyone went home for Christmas but us," Ginny said as she lugged her trunk up the stairs to the Head suite.

"Well, it does make sense, Ministry being realistic or not. Most people can smell what's in the wind. They know that war is coming; of course they want their families together now," replied Hermione, who, with wand in one hand, was helping Ginny push the trunk, and was carrying snacks up the stairs with the other.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Harry, who had made it up first, turned to help Ginny and Hermione with their burdens. He carried Ginny's trunk and dropped it in front of the couch. Ron and Draco immediately put their feet up on it.

"Thanks so much for all your help, darling," Hermione said dryly, walking over to her boyfriend.

"You, Ginny, and Harry had everything covered. Besides, Malfoy and I are in the midst of killing Monstro. It's an epic battle, and we can't exactly pause it," Ron finally turned to look at Hermione, "ooh, did you bring me up any of those crisps from the kitchens?"

Ignoring his question just as deftly as he and her roommate ignored the dirty looks the other three were giving them, Hermione walked into her bedroom to grab some knitting. The idea to have a two week long sleep over party in the Head suite had come about gradually. Some of the people there had several invitations to choose from, others had none. The bleeding hearts in Hermione and Ginny's chests refused to allow Draco to spend his first Christmas after his mother's death alone. Hermione's decision to stay resulted in Ron's decision to stay, which resulted in Harry's, seeing as he hadn't spent a Christmas without Ron since he had began Hogwarts.

The two weeks were to be filled with movie marathons (at Ginny's insistence), video game tournaments (at Draco's insistence), copious amounts of nutritionally vacant food (at Ron's insistence), and homework (at Hermione's insistence). One of the reasons why they were allowed to have the little party was because Hermione had assured McGonagal that they would have all of their assigned homework done before Christmas Day. The other four might be willing to catch the wrath of the headmistress, but Hermione's wrath was another story. Thankfully, even though Christmas was still two days away, they had all completed most of their assignments.

Harry, meanwhile, was just happy to have three of the dearest people in the world to him with him for the holiday. He would deal with Draco.

"So what's on the agenda for tonight, Hermione?" asked Ginny, laying on her stomach on the floor and flipping through the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_.

"Movie marathon. We will be watching that most important of all movie trilogies: _Star Wars_," she didn't look up from her yarn, "and we're watching the good ones, too, not that Jar-Jar/Padamame, Panda Bear crap."

Harry chuckled, "I never would have pegged you for a sci-fi fan, 'Moine."

"Why is that?" she asked, looking up at him and smiling.

"Dunno, I guess I just figured you would only watch foreign movies with subtitles or period pieces that win at movie festivals in France."

"Well, we can watch _Farewell, My Concubine_, or _Maria Full of Grace_ if you _really_ want to."

"No, no, that's ok."

Hermione just smiled. "That's what I thought."

Draco hit himself in the face with the whiskey bottle because he wasn't paying attention. Harry started to giggled uncontrollably only to be shushed by Ron.

"Will you two keep it down?" Ron asked with petulance in his voice and a glance towards the closed bedroom door, "any louder and you are liable to wake the girls."

The boys were huddled on the floor in front of the couch, each holding a bottle of some sort of alcohol. Draco had chosen the firewhiskey, Harry the scotch, and Ron the blood vodka.

"God love Remus," Harry blubbered, "he gives the most _loovely_ gifts." The boys all chuckled as softly as their drunken states would allow. Christmas morning had dawned bright and cheerful, albeit a bit cold, as the five teenagers sat around the same tree in the common area of the Head suite to open presents. Overall, Harry had had a shocking day. Not only had Remus gifted him with three, count'em: THREE, bottles of alcohol (to "use at his discretion" the card said) but his friends had given him a very special gift.

"It's a wizard camera," Ron had said, thinking Harry was confused when he simply stared at the box.

"I can see that, Ron," he looked up at his friend, "this is too much of a gift."

"Well, technically, it's from all of us," replied Ginny.

"We know how much you love looking at the photos from your parents' album. We just thought that maybe it was time for you to start making some memories of your own," said Hermione as she cuddled up next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

"There are several albums and some extra film, as well." Harry picked his head up quickly to stare at the person who had last spoken. Draco regarded him blankly from across the room where he was unwrapping some of his presents.

"We all chipped in, you know, since cameras can be a bit dear," Ginny whispered. _Draco Malfoy had bought him a Christmas present?_ It was disturbing.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, all during their feast, while watching _The Godfather_, while playing _Guitar Hero_, Harry sat and tried to suss out the just bizarre turn the day had taken.

Plus, he rather felt like a douche bag, as he hadn't purchased anything for Malfoy.

Hence, the blond's inclusion in the drunken antics of that evening.

Hermione had looked none too pleased when she saw Lupin's gift. Harry even heard her muttering something about Remus doing his Christmas shopping during a full moon. But she had turned a blind eye to what she had to know must be going on. She and Ginny had retired to her bedroom for some "girl time." The boys, meanwhile, had gathered before the fireplace to enjoy Harry's Christmas spoils.

The alcohol had loosened them up pretty well, and for the first time in a long time, the three of them actually looked relaxed. For a few precious moments, they could forget the world outside and be rule-breaking teenagers, just like everyone else their age.

"Ok, Ron, pony up, what's Granger like in the sack?" asked Draco, poking Ron's leg with his foot. He was so sauced he actually laughed at the blush-filled rage on Ron's face. Harry laughed so hard he spit scotch all over himself and the carpet.

"You are lucky I see two of you right now, or I'd be kicking your ass," replied Ron, trying very determinedly to remember a spell to clean up the expectorated scotch.

"That's alright. I didn't really want to know anyway."

"Me neither," Harry replied.

"But we have to talk about something," Draco whined, "what's the good of being honest drunks if we're not baring our souls?"

"Oh God, he's a philosophical drunk," Ron rolled his eyes, which apparently required him to roll his whole head, which threw him off balance, which resulted in him falling backward.

"Oy! That's alcohol abuse," Harry said to his discombobulated friend.

"Well, at least I didn't spit all over the place, like _someone_."

"Well, then don't make me laugh when I'm drinking."

"I can't help it if I am just naturally humorous."

"If you two don't stop flirting, I think I am going to get nauseous," Draco complained, throwing back the whiskey bottle again, but getting it directly to his mouth this time.

"What?" asked Harry, wondering if he should be outraged.

"Oh, pay no attention to him. He's just jealous because nobody's flirting with him," Ron said. Draco choked.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I've gotten laid more in the past three years than either of you will in your entire lives put together, probably," cried an offended Draco.

"Yes," asked Ron, "but were all your conquests girls?"

Draco just stared at him in shock. "Do people really say that about me?" Ron and Harry just laughed at him.

"No, but you are entirely too easy to tease."

"Because just because I'm friends with a poof, doesn't mean I am one."

_Okay, __**now**__ things are getting interesting._

"Really, a poof you say?" asked Harry, trying to be casual, and failing miserably, "and who is this poof that you are on somewhat, but not totally, intimate terms with?"

"Blaise." Ron cursed.

"Haha," laughed Harry, "that's five galleons you owe me, Ron!"

"Wait, what?" Draco was confused and not happy about it.

"Nothing," said Ron, with a nasty look at Harry's triumphant expression, "we just have this bet on who in Slytherin is gay."

"Did you bet on me?"

"No, no, of course not, calm down."

"We were more interested in if you were going to kill us or not," Harry said, looking Draco square in the eye.

"Well, despite my protests, I wasn't allowed to kill _you_," Draco returned the stare, "you _know_ he wants that pleasure for himself. And I really didn't see the point in killing anybody else. Well, Hermione, sometimes, but that's more out of aggravation than actual hatred."

"Amen to that," said Ron, smiling as he took another sip.

"But Dumbledore…"

"Was totally _not_ my idea," Draco interrupted, "and as you saw first-hand, I couldn't do it anyway. I often wonder what would have happened if Snape had been just a few seconds longer." The three of them looked at the ground.

"Oh Christ. It's Christmas for God's sake, why don't we get on to a topic that's got some cheer to it?" grumbled Ron, desperate for a change in topic, "tell us about your love life, Harry."

"Me?" _Was Harry blushing?_

"Yeah, why him?" asked Draco, looking slightly offended once again.

"Because I don't want to hear _anything_ about _you_ and my sister," Ron growled, "oh Lord, and I don't to hear anything from _you_ about my sister either, Potter."

"Ginny's certainly _social_, isn't she?" Draco said, with a sly glance at Ron.

"Shut it," Ron glared at him.

"There's not much to tell," Harry started talking, knowing that in his present condition he would never be able to break up a fight between the two of them and knowing that said fight would seriously damage his present living environment, "she approached me and I took her up on her offer."

"This is the Lovegoode bird we're talking about here, right?"

"Yeah."

"So am I to ascertain that you are unsatisfied with your arrangement?" asked Ron, pretending to be nonchalant.

"Honestly…yeah, I kinda am," Harry cradled his bottle, "I guess I just expected more."

"More what?" asked Draco.

"More _something_; how should I know?"

"Well, you said yourself, you don't love her," reasoned Ron.

"Oh Hell, Mr. Hearts and Flowers himself," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Ignore him," Ron continued, shooting Draco a dirty look, which he snorted at, "you aren't as connected to her as you could be, should be." Harry just looked at him.

"Can you trust her?" this came from Draco in a rigidly serious voice.

"What kind of question is that?" now Harry was getting offended.

"Answer the question. Can you trust her?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Draco, why are you harping on this?" asked Ron, knitting his eyebrows.

"Well, it seems to me that none of this makes a whole lot of sense," he sat up, "granted, I don't know all the dirty details, but this whole thing seems way out of character for her, from what little about her I know."

"So someone sent her," reasoned Ron.

"Either that or she could be under the Imperius."

"I dunno, she acts much like she did before," countered Ron, "she never did anything that made any sense."

"Yes it did," Harry replied quietly, "she was completely off her head, but when you looked at things from her perspective, they made sense."

"Well, does this situation make sense, from her perspective?" asked Draco. Harry just sat there. "Growing up with Lucius I learned many things, and one of those things was to use anything available to your advantage. This present situation you find yourself in with this girl is a perfect example. They couldn't get ahold of Ginny, knowing your feelings for her, so they send the next best thing at you, someone you don't love, yet someone who will wrap you in a gossamer blanket of ecstasy, possibly even conceiving your child. My, what a weapon THAT would be."

"He's got a point, Harry," Ron said quietly.

"I know he does," Harry agreed shortly, "I should break it off with her."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, 'enemies closer'," Draco counseled, tapping the side of his nose as he did, "if she has been turned, you can use your proximity to keep an eye on her. If you turn her out, they'll find out and who knows what they'll stoop to next."

"That's a good point," Ron agreed, "I would still keep a very close eye on her, regardless. Maybe we can even get Hermione to…"

"To what?! Get Hermione to do what?!?!" Harry cried.

"Figure out some charm or something that we can use to get surveillance on her."

"No! I'm tired of this. Can't I have this? Just one thing?"

"No, you can't," Draco said quietly.

"Now is the time to be cautious, Harry," Ron said, "even if it does go against your nature. We need to be careful. You have a right to want to feel selfish, but it's more than just your life on the line here."

"It always is," Harry sulked.

"Oh, bugger this, you want to go cry in the corner, here's a hankie to dry your tears," Draco said, throwing a napkin at Harry, "the war isn't just about you. We're all suffering here. My mother's been killed, Ron and Ginny live with the fact that their entire family is going to go out and fight as soon as the real fun starts, Hermione will never get to go to college and reach her potential. I could give you hundreds of other examples. Life sucks right now. Get over it. It doesn't just suck for you, it sucks for us all. But we have to make the best of it. Hell, until about five minutes ago this was the best Christmas I have ever had in my whole bloody, debauched life! So stop ruining it with your brooding."

"Shit," Ron said, chuckling to himself, "_this_ is the best Christmas you've ever had?"

Even Harry laughed. "That is just sad."

The rest of the evening was filled with more lighthearted banter, including an impromptu poker game that ended badly. None of the three of them knew exactly what the rules were and they were all so drunk they couldn't remember the rules they made as they went along.

Hermione found them all passed out on the floor the next morning, TV stuck on the blue screen as the movie they had been trying to watch had ended hours ago. She and Ginny decided to make the most of their hangovers, and spoke to them with magically amplified voices all day.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Notes**: Please be advised, this chapter contains **ADULT CONTENT** for pretty much the entire thing. However, this is an important plot point at the end. If you do not wish to read the graphic scenes, simply scroll down to the line that says "_Mmm…I'm a little hungry, but I have no desire to move._ " Just read from there to the end.

Ugh. I'll be honest with you, the reason that it has taken me so long to update is because I freakin' HATED writing this chapter. I understand that the scenes could be more descriptive, but I just couldn't write anything that didn't sound totally ridiculous.

Please let me know what you think. Love it, hate it, think I should throw my computer out the window? Let me know. I LOVE reviews. Even bad ones.

The updates should happen more frequently now that this hurdle is passed and "Beautiful Disaster" is almost done. We're almost there, guys, thanks for sticking around.

I hope everyone had a happy and safe Halloween. Any interesting costumes out there?

Enjoy!

He couldn't breathe. But that was because Hermione's arms were wrapped around him like a vice and she was a dead weight on his chest. He groggily opened his eyes. The screen on the telly was blue.

They had fallen asleep _again_. He was starting to wonder if the two of them would ever make it through an entire movie. It was just that…well…they would snuggle up on the couch and he would get comfortable and the next thing he knew, the movie was over and it was a bizarre hour. It wasn't their fault that their respective schedules had them so busy and exhausted. This was an N.E.W.T. year after all.

Ugh. Now he even sounded like her.

Ron looked at his watch. 1 a.m. Brilliant. _And_ he didn't have the Marauder's Map. Harry had claimed it that evening to go dallying with Luna. Swell. How the heck was he going to get back to Griffyndor tower now?

"Hermione, luv, I gotta get up," Ron tried to sit up. The motion only made Hermione tighten her arms. Normally he got a thrill from this, but he really needed to escape. "Mione, come on, it's late. I gotta go." She started to blink her eyes.

"Mmm…" she rubbed her face against his chest, "what time is it?"

"1 in the morning."

"Oh," she sounded unconcerned. _Well, of course she wasn't concerned. She was where she was supposed to be, in her room._

"I've got to get back."

"Do you have the map?"

"Ugh. No."

"Do you have the invisibility cloak?"

"No," Ron sighed, "You'd think my best mate would be generous enough to share the cloak if he took the map."

"He probably forgot about it." This much was true. He and Harry didn't really have in-depth conversations when they were rushing off to meet their girls.

"Well, looks like I will just have to have faith and trust in luck." _Yeah, because that worked out so well in the past._ He got up to leave.

"Wait," Hermione said, grasping his hand from where she still sat on the couch.

"What?" he replied, slightly irritated. _**What**__ was the holdup?_

"You could…I mean…" Hermione took a deep breath, "why don't you stay here?" She blinked a few times and looked up at him.

"I don't really fit too well on the couch," he said, ignoring the needles in his gut telling him that she hadn't meant for him to sleep in the couch.

"I didn't mean for you to sleep on the couch." She held his eyes but didn't say anything else.

"I think you had better tell me exactly what you meant so that we don't have any misunderstandings."

"I meant for you to stay in my room… with me," she added, finally looking away.

"Stay in your room," he repeated robotically. He had been in Hermione's room before. He had been on Hermione's bed before. Hell, he _and_ Hermione had been on her bed before, in varying states of undress.

One afternoon during winter break immediately sprang to mind. His heart sped up.

Mentally stamping the images down, he continued to look at her. Now, hold on here. She had just invited him to stay. She hadn't said anything else. Just said "stay with me in my room," where she would also be…in her pajamas…all warm and…

Okay, that wasn't working.

Right, just _stay_.

"I don't have any pajamas" was his lame response. He wanted to kick himself.

"Just transfigure your clothes." _Duh, he was supposed to be a wizard, right?_

"Right," he replied, although to her or himself, he wasn't sure.

"You don't have to," she started backpedaling, "I mean, I understand that you would want to sleep in your own bed and all…"

"Hermione, that is _not_ it," he interrupted, but didn't give anymore of a reason.

"Well, are you going to stay or not?" she snapped, embarrassment making her cross.

"I'll stay."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

What in the hell had she been thinking?!?!?! Hermione spent an exponentially longer amount of time in the bathroom getting ready for bed than usual. She pushed escaping locks of hair behind her ears again.

Inviting Ron to spend the night in her bedroom. She was so nervous her hands shook. It wasn't as though he hadn't ever been in her bedroom before. He had been on Hermione's bed before. Hell, they had _both_ been on her bed before, in varying states of undress.

And it was just an invitation to stay.

That was what she had said.

"Stay."

He didn't know that she meant it as more.

He didn't know that she found herself craving him at the most inopportune times. During classes, while sitting together in the Great Hall at meals, when she watched him at his Quidditch games, when they argued.

She loved Ron. She was proud of him. He made her laugh. He was loyal, and affectionate, and sweet. He was the only boy she had ever felt this way about.

It took her by surprise how much she desired him as well.

He awoke things in her: dark things, earthy things. But things that made her feel beautiful, and feminine, and powerful. Little things could set it off. The brush of his fingers, the feel of his lips on her, when he would look at her a certain way.

Wouldn't everyone who thought her prudish be surprised?

She smiled smugly to herself. While she didn't necessarily want to make a grand public display of it, like _some_ people, (_this means you, Lavender_), when she and Ron were alone sometimes it took all her willpower to keep her hands to herself. Not that Ron seemed to mind. Sometimes it seemed as though they were stuck in some sort of amorous feedback-amplification loop.

The physical aspect of their relationship had progressed quite quickly. Sometimes its speed even shocked Hermione. Not that she would take it back. Or stop. Or even slow down, for Merlin's sake.

And now she thought she was ready to take things a step further.

She walked from the bathroom to the bedroom, willing herself to stop trembling. It was _just_ Ron.

"Hi," she said quietly, smiling softly at him as she closed the door behind her. He turned to face her from where he stood at the side of her bed, clothes already transfigured.

"Hi," he replied, eyes growing wide as he looked at her. She wasn't even wearing anything provocative. She had on the Chudley Cannons shirt he had lent her the day he taught her to swim. Below it she had matching plaid pajama pants. _When had she gotten those?_

The sight of her wearing his shirt did something strange to him. In part it was a wave of possessiveness, as though her being in his shirt meant that he had claimed her in some way. The other part was biological. That shirt came into intimately close contact with miles of her skin. Contact that he only got in brief catches.

_Was it possible to be jealous of a shirt?_

"So, goodnight then," he said, leaving it open in the hopes that she would give him some direction. What had he been thinking when he agreed to this? There was no way this would end except in embarrassment.

Hermione walked forward to meet him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged her body to his.

"Goodnight," she whispered, looking up into his face. Her eyes, they were doing something to him. They made the rest of the world fall away. He leaned down to give her what was supposed to be a gentle kiss.

It even started out that way, nice and sweet.

But it didn't stay there for long.

The heat was there, as always, simmering just below the surface. But for some reason, tonight it didn't take much for it to ignite into a furious fire. It didn't matter that they didn't really know what they were doing. Their bodies seemed to know, so Hermione and Ron just let go of logic and followed instinct.

It was awkward, but that didn't seem to matter. There hands seemed to be everywhere at once. A part of Hermione wanted to slow down a tad. She felt like she was missing everything. Ron had just gotten his shirt off. How often did she get to see and touch and taste him completely bare-chested? But no sooner had the shirt landed on the floor but her hands were reaching for the waistband of his pants.

She had somehow wound up on the bed. Foggily, she recalled Ron lifting her up and placing her there. Her clothes were still on, with Ron's hands inside them. That was frustrating, but he had whimpered a bit in such an amazing way when he realized that she hadn't a bra or any knickers on that she let it go for now.

She was possessed; she had to be. How else could she explain the fact that she was laying back on the bed and pulling Ron on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing their bodies into deliciously close contact. Without realizing what she was doing, she grinded against him.

_Oh, that felt good._

She needed her bloody clothes off NOW, dammit!

As though sensing what she wanted, Ron reached for her pajama pants and pulled them off.

_Shirt staying on. Okay, then._

He separated from her briefly to look into her face. He was asking her permission without words. She arched her back to reach his face with her lips, and kissing him, wrapped her legs back around his waist. Bodies knowing what to do, she felt him ease into a place inside her where nothing had been before.

_Ok, that __**didn't**__ feel as good._

It was rather like a burning sensation. Hermione felt like she was being filled to suffocation with something she couldn't really describe. Dammit. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to _hurt_.

Ron stopped moving when he saw the look on her face.

"What's the matter?" he asked in a strangled voice, too much riding on her answer.

"It hurts." _Shite_.

"Oh…do you want me to stop?"

"No." _Oh, thank God_. Holding his body weight off her with his arms, he leaned down to lightly kiss her cheek.

"Tell me what to do."

"I just need a second." Her hands moved to caress his shoulders and pull his weight back on top of her. After a few moments, each of which Ron was certain would be his last, Hermione began moving her hips against him. He gritted his teeth.

"Honey, if you're going to be doing that, I can't just lay here." Her hands moved from his shoulders to his face, turning it to look at her.

"Then don't."

Not being able to help himself, Ron began to move, sliding in and out, reveling in the feeling of Hermione's body squeezing him.

It was intoxicating, it was maddening, it was…rapidly getting out of control.

_Oh no!_

Three more mindless thrusts had Ron exploding into his girlfriend's body. After he came back to reality, he hugged Hermione to him. He rolled onto his side, taking her with him, and kissed her cheek again.

"I'm so sorry," he was so overloaded, he was worried he would start to cry.

"What are you sorry about?" Hermione whispered, snuggling into Ron's chest.

"That that was so bleeding awful."

"What are you talking about?" she asked tiredly, already drifting off.

"I hurt you, and it was over before you had a…"

"…a special moment?" she supplied, using their codeword.

"Yeah."

"Don't worry about it. Everything was brilliant up until the very end. Next time will be much better."

_Next time! Merlin, he loved this woman._

"I love you, Mione." He rolled again, onto his back. She quickly followed and placed her head on his chest.

"I love you too, Ron."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

How could she be so sore?

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, only to realize that her room was on its side. _Oh, wait no…_she was just sleeping in a different position and the side of her face was all sweaty. Suddenly, the floor dropped out.

_Wait a minute._

That was just her head moving up and down because Ron had taken a deep breath. She was sleeping with Ron! She snuggled him a little closer. She was sleeping with the love of her life! She was…shagging…the love of her life.

_Oh, Merlin._

She and Ron had made love last night. And it had been…well…_brilliant_ up until the actual shagging ensued. Dammit. She refused to accept that. Everyone made such a big bloody deal about the whole thing. She was 18 years old. She should be able to enjoy a physical relationship with her boyfriend. She loved him, after all.

Mentally, Hermione paged through the tome of information she had acquired about sex since she and Ron had started going out. Granted, a vast majority of it was from books, but when had books ever steered her wrong before?

There was that one trick she picked up that had Ron practically screaming when she tried it out on him…

…But back to the point. She remembered reading that changing positions would change the sensations.

_Hmm…_

Last night she had reveled in feeling Ron's weight bearing down on her. But it was very difficult to hit the right spot that way. What if she was on top instead?

The idea had merit. But how to go about it? She couldn't just come out and say something like that, could she?

Ron was so conservative. Would he get turned off if she were so forward? Sighing, she stretched and looked down. There was an odd bump in the blankets where Ron's legs met.

_Oh._

Apparently, Ron was having some _very_ pleasant dreams. Hermione smiled slyly. What if…what if she just went and did this on her own while he was asleep?

Would that count?

Would he be upset?

Would she be taking advantage of him?

Hermione tried to think the situation through logically. Would Ron really be upset to wake up to find his girlfriend writhing atop him? Well, he might be a bit miffed at being woken so early, but somehow Hermione thought that the whole "being shagged" part would take some of his irritation away. She just hoped he would stay asleep until she was comfortable enough for him to wake up. She slid her hand under the blankets to conduct a little test.

"Mmm…" Ron groaned in his sleep, "…Mione…there…" _Good. This was good._ Perhaps he would sleep through the whole thing and think it nothing more than a dream. Hermione touched him a bit more to make sure he was ready. The quiet moaning continued.

Slowly, she pushed herself up off the bed and slid one leg over Ron's so that she was straddling him. Very gently, she eased him inside her body.

_Ugh. Maybe this __**wasn't**__ such a good idea._

She was still sore and it still hurt a bit. But when she got him all the way there, she had second thoughts. As she shifted her weight, the friction between their bodies was absolutely _delightful_. Hermione tried it again.

_Yup, this could work._

Continuing along slowly, Hermione ground her hips back and forth against Ron's body. This was feeling better and better.

Strong hands suddenly gripped her hips and stopped the motion.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he asked, looking up at her, very awake.

"Erm…" Hermione was nervous now, "taking advantage of you?"

Ron laughed and pulled her forward to kiss her, but didn't allow her to get up. He let her set the pace and moved with her. She quickened the rhythm and before too long felt tension growing in her belly. She grabbed the sheets and rubbed against him harder, faster, until she felt her muscles contract and release. Completely spent, Hermione laid her head back down on Ron's chest and tried to even out her breathing.

Any pride Ron might have felt about his performance this time was far from his mind at the moment. Hermione's orgasm spurred him on as he grabbed her bum roughly and plowed into her. A few seconds later stars exploded behind his eyes, and Ron lay back, cuddling Hermione to him, unwilling to let her go.

"Are you ok?" she asked tiredly.

"Smashing. You?"

"I'm well, thanks. I told you it would get better."

"I know, you're always right," he joked, turning to place a kiss on her sweaty head.

_Mmm…I'm a little hungry, but I have no desire to move._

"Oh, you read my mind," Ron sighed, nuzzling Hermione's neck.

"What?" Hermione pushed herself off Ron's chest to look him in the face.

"What?"

"What did you just say?"

"That you read my mind."

"I read your mind about what?" she sounded confused.

"That you were a little hungry, but you didn't want to move." She just stared at him. Then she was sitting up and putting some space between them on the bed.

"Ron, I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. I heard you."

"Ron, I didn't say that," she pushed some errant hair out of her face, "but I thought it. In those exact same words."

"Ok," he sat up against the headboard and closed his eyes.

_Why would he say those exact words?_

"Because that's what I heard!" he was starting to get irritated now. All he wanted was to snuggle and hear Hermione tell him that she loved him.

"What did you hear?" she sounded frightened now.

"Those exact words."

"Ron," she whimpered, "I haven't been saying any words, I've only been _thinking_ them." He just looked at her.

"Ok, let's try an experiment." At least she was making sense now. "I'm going to think of something, and you try to figure out what it is."

"Ugh, fine." He didn't like this one bit. Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ron did the same.

He started to zone out, just breathing; inhale, exhale. An image appeared. Hermione tying red sneakers. Her hands were so small. She was probably only about 7 years old.

"What was I thinking about just now?"

"Tying red sneakers where you were little," he replied, hardly recognizing his own voice.

"Oh my God," was all she could say.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Notes**: Ahh…the plot thickens…

_It's not easy having a boyfriend who can read your thoughts_.

Hermione ran her hands through her hair again, trying to ease some of the tension building in her temples. Two weeks had passed since her and Ron's romantic interlude in her room. Since then, things had been rather crazy.

It didn't take her long to realize that Ron could read her thoughts, ALL her thoughts, at any time so long as she was near him. If they were in separate rooms, she was safe, but if he could see her, he could _read_ her. It was not the most pleasant of experiences. As much as she loved Ron, there were things that she wanted to keep to herself. She had a right to privacy, right? He had no right to get all bent out of shape if she snapped at him for asking her about something that he shouldn't know. Right?

Well, that was how she saw it anyway.

What was even more frustrating was learning that she didn't share his new abilities. Ron could _read_ her, but Hermione still had to rely on the same clues to figure out what he was thinking that she had always relied on.

It wasn't fair.

Shortly after their discovery, she had conducted an experiment with a small group.

She had made up cards with simple images on them. One was given to Harry, Ginny, and Draco. She also held one. Ron's task was to _read_ each of the four teens and figure out what their image was. She theorized that Ron shared close relationships with each of the Gryffindors, and Draco, as an "outsider," would act as the control.

She went first, and he had _read_ her with little difficulty.

"Star," he had said, before she had even completely looked at her card. He received mental images from Ginny and Harry nearly as fast. Draco proved to be a little more of a challenge. After staring at the blond Slytherin for several minutes without guessing, Ron finally got irritated and snapped at him.

"Stopped beating around the bloody bush. I don't care what you think of the fucking experiment, just give me the image!"

The look of shock of Draco's face was priceless. Ron had barely finished his rant when he spoke again.

"Three wavy vertical lines," he said, correctly naming Draco's image.

Ron's new found abilities however, did not come without consequences. With all the mental chatter going on around him, he began to get horrible migraines. The only peace he seemed to be able to find was sitting alone in dark rooms, the 7th year boys' dormitory and Hermione's bedroom being the places he liked best. His sleep patterns started to get rearranged. As he couldn't concentrate when there were people around, Ron got into the habit of going up to his room to sleep immediately after classes let out in the afternoon. He would sleep until about 11 pm or midnight and would then venture down to the Gryffindor common room to do his homework, snacking on whatever Harry, Ginny, or Hermione had brought him up from dinner.

He never saw his friends anymore outside of class. He never spent any time with Hermione. Christ, he even missed playing video games with Draco. He couldn't go on like this.

Eventually, Hermione cracked and went to McGonagall for advice. Up to this point, the five teens had kept up a policy of absolute silence regarding Ron's behavior and abilities. But Hermione realized that the situation was rapidly getting out of their control, and it was time to bring in the adults.

The summit with the Headmistress went a lot more smoothly than she had anticipated. McGonagall did not ask too many personal questions and seemed relatively calm about the entire affair. She accompanied Hermione and Harry to the boys' dorm one afternoon where Ron was trying to sleep.

"How long has he been like this?" the professor asked as they climbed the stairs in Gryffindor tower.

"Two weeks," Hermione answered tiredly. This whole situation was taking much more of a toll on her than she had expected.

Harry entered the room before the other two, briefly checking to make sure that nothing incriminating was laying about.

"Ron, mate, McGonagall is here. She wants to talk to you."

"I know," a barely recognizable voice said from behind the curtains on Ron's bed. He poked a weary head out to look at them. The bags under his eyes and wild hair almost matched Hermione's, but his were much more pronounced.

"I realize I look like death warmed over," he said sulkily, turning unhappy eyes to McGonagall, "it's not like I can help but hear what you are thinking."

"Very well, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall replied in the softest tone that anyone had ever heard her use. She walked forward and tapped her wand lightly on his temple. Ron blinked several times and looked up at her hopefully.

"What did you do?" he asked in awe.

"Ron, what happened?" Hermione interrupted.

"She made it stop. All the noise. Everything is quiet again," he flopped back down onto his bed, "I never thought I would be so happy for quiet in my life."

"Professor, what did you do?" Harry asked.

"I put a temporary cap on his abilities, similar to numbing an area before surgery," she turned to look at Harry and Hermione, "but it won't last forever. Ron will need to learn occlumency to be able to harness his telepathy."

"Telepathy," Hermione whispered, barely believing her ears at someone using the word in all seriousness.

"He needs to be able to control what he is hearing and when he is hearing it. The only other option is madness."

"But who will instruct him?" Harry began cautiously, "Snape…"

"Severus Snape was not the only wizard who was an accomplished Legilimens," McGonagall replied, "as you well know, Mr. Potter. There are others who can teach him. Several members of the Order are capable, but I do not know if their other responsibilities will prohibit them from taking on this task. I will contact them."

"Who are they, Professor?" Hermione's curiosity got the better of her.

"Well, Kingsley Shacklebolt for one, but again, he has other responsibilities."

"What about Malfoy?" Ron asked suddenly. Hermione and Harry just turned shocked faces in his direction.

"How do you know about Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall shot back.

"He basically told me. When Hermione did her experiment, he got scared when he realized I knew what was going on in his head. He immediately shut down and I couldn't get anything from him anymore." McGonagall pursed her lips.

"I don't know the extent of Mr. Malfoy's abilities," she said after some thought, and then turned concerned eyes to Ron, "are you sure that you want him trying to enter your mind? Do you trust him that much?" Ron sat with his hands on his knees.

"What do you two think?" he asked, looking up at Harry and Hermione.

"You know a lot of information about a great many things, Ron," Hermione began.

"I agree, plus, it's a _really_ unpleasant sensation when someone is deliberately trying to invade your thoughts," Harry added.

"Well, then, maybe we should compromise. Professor, would please ask Kingsley if he would work with me? In the meantime, I'll try to feel Malfoy out. And yes, luv," he turned to smile at Hermione, "we will also read every book on occlumency this library has to offer."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry answered for everyone.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The occlumency lessons began much more quickly than anyone had anticipated. Kingsley arrived at the school the day after receiving McGonagall's owl. He spent all of Friday night and most of the day Saturday locked in a room with Ron, going over the fundamentals of keeping someone out of his head. It was a bit strange trying to work out the details, since normally when occlumency is applied it is to prevent a person on the outside from forcing their way inside one's mind. In Ron's case, the thoughts of the people around him where entering his mind with their volition, without the knowledge of the thought's owner.

The training session was totally exhausting so Ron spent all of Sunday sleeping, but awoke early Monday, eager to return to some sort of normalcy. Although he had to actively force his brain to block out the thoughts of those around him, it was much easier now, having acquired the tools he needed. All that remained was the practice necessary to make it second nature. Once he could block people out as a reflex, he could start working on reading chosen individuals.

All his grand plans went out the window, however, when he saw Hermione come into the Great Hall for breakfast. He immediately lost his concentration and was deluged by the thoughts of everyone around him. Everyone, that is, but _one_.

Hermione smiled tiredly at him and sat down, not noticing his agitated expression.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching for some yogurt.

"I'm doing a bit better," he plopped down beside her, "how is it that you are blocking me?"

"_You_ are supposed to be blocking everyone," she gave him a sidelong glance.

"I was until you came in. I lost my concentration. I started _hearing_ everyone," he blurted out, "everyone but _you_." He watched as she chewed her lip, a sure sign of nervousness. _What did she have to be nervous about?_

"Let's go up to my room," she said, reaching to take his hand. He yanked it away from her.

"Why do you want to go to your room?" He sounded like a three year old, even to his own ears.

"Because I really don't want to discuss this in the middle of the Great Hall while everyone is having breakfast," she hissed, stung that he had pulled away from her, "when you decide to start acting like an adult and have a rational conversation, I'll see you in the head suite." She turned on her heel and walked stiffly away from him. Ron sulkily chewed on some toast as he calmed down and began the exercises that would block everything out. He was so agitated that it took him nearly fifteen minutes to achieve any sort of quiet.

The fifteen minutes also allowed him to think and analyze his irritation. On the one hand, a part of him understood that his new abilities were very unsettling to Hermione. He had things he wanted to keep private, too. But she got entirely too upset about it when he slipped and _heard_ something he wasn't supposed to hear. It wasn't his fault, he was working on it; but she made it seem as though it was a capital crime.

Where did she get off? It wasn't fair that he had to deal with this now. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be! Not after…well…after what had happened…

Ron stopped. He had to actively think to remember how long it had been since he had spent the night in Hermione's room. Almost three weeks! Three bloody weeks had passed and…nothing! They hadn't even talked about it for Merlin's sake! Was it any wonder why he was so cranky?

The effort to calm himself completely backfired the more he thought about the situation. And he had a pretty good feeling that whatever they were going to discuss up in the Head Suite was not going to improve his mood.

He prayed that Malfoy wouldn't be there as he climbed the stairs. Thankfully, the only person he saw was Hermione, seated on the couch, arms crossed, legs crossed, tapping her foot against the table. Apparently, she hadn't calmed down any either.

"I was starting to think you weren't coming," she said icily, turning to look him in the face.

"I had to calm down," he replied, standing across from her and crossing his own arms over his chest.

"And did you?" the artic wind asked.

"Not for long." They remained there in stony silence for a few heartbeats.

"How can you block me all of a sudden?" he began, getting right to the point.

"It's not 'all of a sudden,' Ron, you've been out of commission for three days."

"Well, I know that you weren't in the room with Kingsley and me, so how did you figure it out?"

She wouldn't look at him.

"Someone must have taught you…" the gears were turning in his head, "it was MALFOY!" She didn't say anything, merely sunk further into the couch.

"It was Malfoy, wasn't it!?!?! It had to be! He's the only one at school who could possibly teach you those skills. Goddammit, Hermione, how could you do that?!?! How could you let him…"

"What?" she screamed, near tears now, "let him what? What exactly do you think he may have done to me?"

"In order to train you, he would have to look into your mind, see your memories. All the private thoughts that you have about things, he would be able to get to. How could you let him do that?!?!?!"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"Of course you had a choice! There's always a choice! He's the enemy, Hermione. What about all that 'you know a lot of information about a great many things, Ron'? You know the same things I do. How are you any different from me?"

"I had to get you _out_," she said quietly. She was actually crying now. He couldn't move. It was as though she had plunged a knife in his heart.

"So you need to keep secrets from _me_, but you have no problem letting _him_ know everything." He forced himself to stop there. There were nasty things brewing around in his head, words that wanted to see the light of day, but he knew that some of them would be death sentences.

This wasn't like the fights they had had in the past. Those were bad, but this was the worst, by far. The stakes were higher now. He couldn't just fly off the handle and lash out at her, saying awful, hurtful things. A part of him didn't want to. When he had been horrible in the past, it was because he wanted her to feel as badly as he did. Today he knew that she did. He didn't even have to read her. _And she was holding back too._

_At least they were committed to that._

He looked down at Hermione, practically a tiny ball on the couch. No matter how he cut it, she had betrayed him. She had let another man know her secrets for the specific purpose of keeping him out. _Why didn't she just shag him while she was at it?_

Ugh, now he felt nauseous.

He had to leave; he had to get away from her. He grabbed his bag from where he had dropped it by the door. He left the room without a backward glance.

Hermione hadn't said another word.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

They successfully avoided each other for the rest of the week. Harry and Ginny were amazingly neutral. They told both Ron and Hermione that they could see the argument from both sides, and they would be non-judgmental ears if either wanted to talk. They also worked hard to coordinate keeping them apart. Ginny ate all of her meals in the Head Suite with Hermione, while Harry got Ron around while avoiding seeing the Head Girl as much as possible.

The only one who had chosen a side, not that anybody cared, was Draco. He was completely on Hermione's team. _And_ he had been looking forward to a Weasley bashing session, which to his disappointment never came.

"Lay off, Draco," Hermione had said when he started spewing some anti-Ron propaganda.

_What the fuck? Wasn't this supposed to happen? When the girl broke up with someone, she was supposed to hate them forever and want to talk smack about the former boyfriend._

_Right?_

Trouble was, Ron and Hermione apparently _hadn't_ broken up.

_Well that was fine then,_ Draco concluded. Things would go back to how they were in the beginning of the year, when he had Hermione and Ginny all to himself.

And he most certainly did _not_ miss Ron and Potter.

Not one little bit.

At least that's what he kept telling himself.

In the meantime, McGonagall had alerted Ron's parents to his new abilities. She wisely did this without telling him, to avoid the subsequent argument and sulking. Therefore, Ron was quite surprised one morning when he received a letter from his mother.

"What's that?" asked Harry through a mouthful of oatmeal.

"A letter from Mum. She's in Hogsmeade and wants to meet me for dinner at The Three Broomsticks. What is this all about?"

Permission from the Headmistress in hand, Ron ambled down to the village that evening. He found his mother cozied up at one of the tables in the pub.

"Oh, Ron, there you are," she stood and kissed him on the cheek, forcing him to bend down so she could reach.

"Hey, Mum."

"How are you?"

"I've been better actually," he replied dryly. The events of the new year were really taking a toll on him.

"How is Hermione?"

"For the foreseeable future, _that_ topic is off limits."

"Oh dear, well, then, I had better feed you and get on with what I was going to say." He loved his mum; she always knew how to make him feel better.

_Wait, what?_

"Mum, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I'm here for a reason, Ron. Not just to have dinner with my son."

"And that reason is?"

"Minerva told me about your new abilities."

Ron sighed unhappily and slouched back into his seat. _Brilliant_.

"She did?"

"Yes, and I am here to shed some light on the subject." _Well, that was interesting_.

"Any light at all would be much appreciated."

"I can imagine. Ron, Minerva used the word 'telepathy' to explain your abilities. What do you know about that?"

"Nothing. All I know is that I can read other people's thoughts without trying and I have to actively force myself not to."

"There are many different abilities that come with this gift, I am sure that you will develop them as you go. Telepathy goes back to the beginning of time. It is very old magic. You don't need a wand, you just need your own talents. And not just anyone can do it, either. Only very special witches and wizards are capable of it.

"There are two routes that will result in this ability. Sometimes, everyone in a line has it. Often they are seers. Usually they are women. Other times, certain criteria are met by a specific person's birth. There is an old wives' tale about the seventh son of a seventh son having 'the sight.' That statement is true, but it is a little more general than that."

"Dad doesn't have six older brothers."

"No, but _I_ have six older siblings. I'm here to tell you that you are the seventh son of a seventh daughter. That's why you have these abilities."

"But Mum, I only have five older brothers. If anything, Ginny should be the one who can do this. She's number seven."

"I am about to tell you something that I do not wish you to repeat. It is very painful to me and I don't like talking about it."

"Ok," Ron leaned in.

"Your father and I love each other very much, always have. So much in fact that we did not use proper restraint when we were courting. We didn't wait for things, if you get my meaning. And we had to rush to get married."

"Are you telling me a shotgun was involved?"

"Well, that's a very Muggle expression, your father would get a kick out it," she smiled sadly, "in any case, yes, we had to rush to get married because we were expecting a child. We married and moved into The Burrow and began to get ready for the addition to our family. It was a very difficult pregnancy. The baby came too early. There was nothing the mid-witch could do. He was too small. He died a few hours after he was born. Our first born son. But he didn't make it."

Ron felt as though he had been punched in the chest.

"What was his name?"

"Maximilian."

"Mum, how do you know so much about telepathy?"

"I had always heard about the old wives' tale. When you were born, I did a good deal of research on the subject, to learn what I could."

"But why am I just getting this now?"

"It's a latent form of the ability. Those with others in the line normally have it from birth. It sleeps in children like you. For girls, the ability usually presents itself at puberty. For boys, it's different," at this she turned stern eyes on her son, "Ronald, I know exactly how a boy in your situation awakens his abilities. Now I think you ought to tell me what happened with Hermione."

Ron stared at his mother. She was being so calm. Much calmer than he thought she would be upon learning that her son was sexually active. Or, at least, had been, one time. Inasmuch as she had already probably had this realization five times previously, he was her _baby_ son, she was supposed to be more upset about this.

Honestly, he was a little disappointed.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The evening with his mother had gone relatively well. She was an unusually helpful font of knowledge where girls were concerned, more so than Ginny. What he really wanted to do now was talk to Hermione. _Really_ talk to her and get it all out.

But that was easier said than done.

She must still be avoiding him. He _never_ saw her.

And he had no idea where she was until Malfoy stopped him in the corridor one day.

"You really are a stupid son of a bitch, aren't you?" the little ferret began in lieu of a greeting, "how could you do this to her?"

"Malfoy, what in the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Hermione, and the fact that she fainted this morning after vomiting in the bathroom _again_!"

"Where is she now?" Ron asked, ignoring his tone.

"In the bloody hospital wing, where else?" surprisingly, Draco turned and began walking with him, "I realize that your father wouldn't be any good with those charms, but you do have a hundred brothers, plus dormmates. Unless you are all planning on repopulating Avalon yourselves."

"What are you talking about?" Ron stopped to turn and face him.

"Oh, come on! The vomiting, the sleeping for hours on end, the fainting…she's up the pole, you retarded fuck!"

Now Ron thought he was going to faint. Hermione…_pregnant_? Hermione was going to have his baby? His eyes were starting to go dark.

"Oh, no you don't! You get over there and fix this. I knew something like this would happen. I just _knew_ it. Not even four months down and you've screwed everything up…"

Ron wasn't listening anymore. He ran to the hospital wing and threw open the doors. Sure enough, there was Hermione, curled up on one of the beds. He walked over quickly and stopped short. She opened her eyes when she sensed someone approach.

"Hey," she croaked, unsure what his reaction would be.

"Hey," Ron replied nervously, "how are you feeling?"

"Ugh, I've been better," she said, pushing herself up into a sitting position, "I won't be sad to never see this place again after we graduate."

"Yeah,…erm, look, I know we haven't really made up totally from our fight or whatever, but I think we should get married. We can do it the day after my 18th birthday. That's only another month away. It'll be fine. I'll get a job right after graduation and you won't have to worry about anything. I can probably work for the twins for a while until I find something else. It'll be _fine_." She was looking at him strangely.

"Ron, are you feeling alright?" she put the inside of her wrist against his forehead to test his temperature.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be? I love you…so much," he reached forward and pulled her into a fierce hug before realizing he was probably hurting her.

"Oh! Sorry," he reached down to pat her tummy, "are you ok?"

Hermione blinked a few times as realization dawned.

"Ron, why exactly do you think I am sitting here in the hospital wing?"

"Because," he leaned forward to whisper, "you're going to have our baby."

"What?!?!" she pulled away from him startled, "what gave you that idea?"

"Well, Draco said…" he rambled as he started to panic, "…he said you fainted and were throwing up and that meant that you were pregnant."

"Ron," she reached up to grab his arm and stop the rant, "I've got the flu. Getting sick made me dehydrated. That's why I fainted."

"The flu?"

"Yes. I'll be out of here by tomorrow morning, right as rain."

"Are you sure? Because when we…we didn't use…"

"No, _you_ didn't use anything. But birth control isn't just a male responsibility. I took care of it."

"Oh." He was relieved, but there was something else too. _He probably shouldn't feel a little disappointed too, should he?_

"But it's sweet to know that you wouldn't just head for the hills the minute somebody utters the 'p' word." She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Notes:** Hey Everybody!!! Sorry that this has taken so long to get uploaded. The Holiday Crush is a killer.

There are so many things to say about this chapter. One of my biggest problems with this story in general is the anachronisms that are appearing throughout. As an historian, this really burns my…well, you get the idea. Since going back and changing everything would be horrifically time consuming, I am just going to pretend that our heroes live in a magical land where a playstation exists in 1997. HEY! They do live in a magical land…art imitating art! How avante garde!

Anyhow, this chapter is un-beta-ed. I want to give Fool4Sasuke33 a break. I didn't want anyone to think that I had abandoned this story, however. Therefore, it is the responsibility of you, gentle reader, to point out the mistakes. I think I got all the typos, but my grammar is rather poor. Sorry.

Enjoy!

"But…but…" Hermione sputtered, "how are we supposed to prepare for a test when we don't even know what we are being tested _on_?" She forced herself to take deep breaths, eyes darting around the room for a paper bag to breathe into.

"And NEWTs are coming up! What are they thinking?" Pity for her overcoming his still slightly out of joint attitude, Ron stood behind her and began massaging her shoulders. _She needed to relax. It was probably nothing. It wasn't like they were going to test her on occlumency, when Merlin knew she was oh-so-skilled at that._

"Ouch!" Hermione turned her head around to look at him, "Ron, as much as I appreciate you trying to relax me, you are squeezing a bit too hard."

Ron released her hands and stared at her in shock. He was hurting her. He had hurt her without even realizing that he was doing it.

"I'm so sorry," he sat down, ashamed, and wouldn't even look at her. A few moments of silence passed.

"Ron," she began, sliding right beside him and taking his hand in both of hers, "I know this isn't the best of times, honestly, when have we ever had 'the best of times,' but anyway, I think maybe we should talk."

_Oh great, here it comes. I'm about to get chucked_.

"Ron, I am _so_ sorry that you feel as though I've betrayed you. That honestly wasn't my intention," she whispered, "it was just that, there are things inside me that are terrifying, and I need to keep them hidden. I didn't want you to see something inadvertently that you would take the wrong way out of context." She sat back and exhaled.

"But I guess that happened anyway," she lamented.

"What do you mean there are terrifying things inside you?"

She sighed and looked away.

"We all have things that we would like to keep private. I was afraid that you would see something inside me that you would cause you to get disgusted by me."

He had to take a minute to process this.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my entire life," he snapped quietly, "Hermione, I understand that you want to keep some things to yourself. But that's beside the point. There isn't anything about you that would get me disgusted."

"But don't you see? It already has," she said brokenly, eyes closing and a single tear running down her cheek.

"I'm not disgusted," he ground out, wonderingly exactly _what_ he was, "I just feel…betrayed I guess."

"And that you can't trust me anymore."

"No, that's not it, really. I'm just…" he had to stop there, "I'm jealous of him. There, I said it. It's bad enough that you live with him. It's worse that he's almost as smart as you, way smarter than me. But now that you shared this experience with him, how can I compete with that?"

"Oh for God's sake, Ron," she snapped sadly, "don't you know that I love you? We…we made love. How could anything having to do with Draco Malfoy possibly compete with any of that?"

"Maybe not now…but eventually you'll see how much better you are than me, how much more you deserve…" At that she pulled away from him and hung her head in her hand in frustration.

"Ron, we can't keep doing this. I get that you have confidence issues. Don't think that I don't have them too," she turned to face him again, "but accusing me of something that isn't there simply because I am on friendly terms with a male of the species isn't going to work. It's not right and it's not fair. I love you _so_ much…but maybe that just isn't enough." She stood and turned from him.

"What?" Ron's question came out in a low growl. She turned back to face him.

"I can't do this, especially not now, with everything that has happened. Maybe you weren't ready for us, maybe I wasn't. I don't know. All I know is that when I look in your eyes, all I see is accusation. And I can't stand it."

"So what are you proposing then?"

"I don't know. You're the strategist, give me some options."

He took a deep breath. "Do you want to break up?"

"Do I _want_ to, no!"

"So you want to try to work it out?"

"Of course; if we can."

"No, no, no! If we do this, it can't be half-assed. If we try, we have to go all the way. Would you be committed to that?"

"Yes," she hissed, angry now.

"Well, then. I guess we have some work to do," he walked forward toward the door and held out his hand. She took it without a second's hesitation and they walked out together.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Draco sat outside an empty classroom. Blaise was being tested inside the sealed room. He would be next. Hermione was being tested in the room adjacent to Blaise. Hannah Abbot and Terry Boot were in the far classrooms.

Hermione had been a wreck ever since these new specialized tests had been announced. Added to her nerves was the fact that Ron had been AWOL for quite some time now. Draco was starting to feel odd, as though things were incomplete.

Unfortunately, it appeared that the situation was about to get quite a bit odder. Before he knew what was happening, Ron was sitting beside him on the bench.

"Hi," Ron said, arms crossed over his chest, not looking at him.

"Hi," Draco replied questioningly, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm scheduled to go next, after Hermione."

"Ok. What are you doing on this bench?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he still wouldn't turn his head to grace Draco with eye to eye contact.

"And you are…"

"What did you _see_?"

"What?"

"Shut it, you know what I'm talking about."

"Oh," Draco understood, from Ginny, that Ron and Hermione were barely on speaking terms, mostly due to his teaching Hermione occlumency, which was all her idea, by the way. "What do you care?"

Now Ron turned, and gave Draco a death glare.

"You want to know what I _saw_?" Draco turned to face him, "I _saw_ you. Image after image after image. _You_ as a little boy on the Express, _you_ a little bit older at The Hovel, _you_ playing Quidditch, _you_ in class, _you, you, you, you_. Over and over again. She's obsessed, that one. And _how_ she sees you," he grunted, "like some sort of god sent down from on high to mingle with us commoners. It was disgusting really. Luckily she picked up the skills relatively quickly, otherwise I may have been forced to vomit."

_That's my girl._

Draco's diatribe was interrupted by the sound of a door being opened. Blaise had completed his test and Slughorn was now waiting on Draco.

"See you around," the blond said, getting up off the bench and walking through the door, which was closed with a soft click. Blaise minded his business and left immediately. Ron sat in silence for a few moments until it was broken by the sound of another door opening. A tired, but very satisfied, looking Hermione was exiting. Ron felt his chest constrict as he looked at her for what felt like the first time in weeks.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, using a voice Hermione barely recognized. Between the tone and the look on his face, she was just about ready to burst into tears, _again_.

"Hey," she replied, standing where she was, not really understanding what was going on.

"I talked to Malfoy," he said, figuring out her confusion and knowing the simplest way to alleviate it, as their time was short.

"Did you?"

"Yes," he stood and approached her.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching her and pulling her into a hug. He felt her give a shaky sigh and hug him back.

"Me too," she said.

"I love you," he said, separating enough to look down into her face.

"I love you, too," she answered, giving him a watery smile. He bent to kiss her, but any full-on snogging would have to wait as McGonagall discreetly cleared her throat from the doorway.

"Whenever you are ready, Mr. Weasley."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

"So what were the tests like?" Ginny asked over the ice cream spoon that was currently lodged in her mouth.

Since Ron and Hermione had successfully reconciled (there was something to be said for making up after fights now that they were a couple), a slushy Sunday afternoon in February found Harry, Ron, and Ginny lounging in the Head Suite once again. Harry and Draco were enmeshed in a game of Mortal Kombat while Hermione snuggled up on Ron's lap, reading. Ron watched the two boys battle it out while offering color commentary. Ginny sat on the floor by Harry's legs, eating ice cream and watching the antics on the TV.

"I think that everyone was given different tests," Hermione began, "mine mostly dealt with logic and problem solving. 'If you needed to enter building A and entrance B was blocked, what would you do?' 'What sources would you use to research topic C?' That kind of thing. They were actually kind of fun."

Ron nodded. "McGonagall made me play chess on three different boards while she asked me all kinds of questions."

"That's odd," Ginny noted, furrowing her brow, "what did you lot have to do?" She addressed to her two former boyfriends on the sofa.

"I had a lot of problem solving, like Hermione," Draco replied, "I also had to fill in family trees and answer questions about wizard politics."

Harry sat for a moment, thinking. "I had questions about Quidditch and how I was faring as captain. It didn't really feel like I was being tested, per se."

"Why would they all be different tests?" Ginny said almost to herself.

"That's not what worries me," replied Hermione absently, "I'm more concerned about what we were being tested for."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, only the remaining 7th years of each house were tested and we were all given different tasks. Whoever made up the tests obviously knew our strengths and these were just to get a scope, however limited. But who are they and why did they need to know?"

Hermione's musings brought Harry up cold. Ron noticed him start and decided to do a little digging.

"Malfoy, how much can we trust you?" Ron asked, seemingly out of the blue. Hermione looked at him, but he just nodded for her to keep quiet.

"You can't," was Draco's reply.

"That's what I thought." Ron stared very hard at Draco.

"Knock it off!" Draco jumped off the sofa and threw his controller to the ground, "do you really think you would be able to get anything out of me that way?"

"It was worth a try," Ron replied, aloof. By this point Draco was panting and sweating.

"Ron, what did you do?" asked Ginny.

"He tried to _read_ me," Draco answered for him. Time in the suite stopped.

"So what? It's not like it's the first time," Harry said, ignoring the tantrum.

"No, it's _nothing_ like the first time. This was by force." He wasn't calming down.

"Oh, relax. I didn't get much of anything anyway."

"What did you _see_?" Draco marched up to and stood in front of the chair that Hermione and Ron occupied.

"_What did you __**see**_?!?!" he was screaming now. Ron very carefully lifted Hermione out of the chair to stand. When he rose, he gently pushed her behind him to keep her from getting caught in the crossfire.

"What's the matter, Malfoy, nervous about something?"

"Draco, I don't understand. You know how to use occlumency, why didn't you?" asked Hermione.

"I don't have it on all the time! I didn't know I had to use all the time _here_!" With that, he stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. As soon as it was closed, Harry cast an imperturbable around the common room.

"Something on your mind, Harry?" Ron asked mildly, sitting back down on his chair and dragging Hermione after him.

"That was some wicked trick, Ron," Ginny muttered in shock.

"What? We have things we need to discuss, he was in the way, and if we all left the room at the same time it would look mighty suspicious. Not to mention that he would just come looking for us."

"An excellent strategy," Hermione said.

"So, Harry, what's up?" Harry turned to look at them.

"Do you remember when Percy came to tell all of us we were under house arrest?" Ron and Hermione nodded, "he said that the Ministry was planning something. What if these tests are part of what they are planning? What if they are amassing an army, and they are trying to determine who will be generals and who will be foot soldiers?"

"But why would they only test the 7th years?" asked Ginny.

"Think about it, Gin, who are the only ones legally able to do magic outside of school?" Harry replied, "My guess is that they will filter through the 7th years and then go one to the 6th years, looking for people who can help protect the school while enrolled next term."

"It makes a lot of sense," Hermione backed him up.

"So this is it, then. It's starting," Ron thought that he would be happier about that.

"We don't know that for sure," Hermione continued, "Harry, maybe you should owl Lupin. Feel around to see if he knows anything. I wish we had more contacts in the Order."

"I can ask Kingsley some innocent, yet well worded questions," Ron said, "he offered to answer any questions I might have about…well, it was supposed to be the occlumency stuff. Hermione, maybe you can help me word things so they appear more inconspicuous."

"Good plan," Hermione agreed, before turning to the last Gryffindor in the room, "Ginny, I think it's a good time for you to write your _favorite_ brother, Percy. See if he'll brag about anything going on at the Ministry."

"If he believes he's my favorite brother, I don't know how useful he'll be as a source," Ginny quipped.

"Well, feel him out anyway. He's the closest person to the Minister of Magic that we can get to."

Harry stood there as realization dawned. His generals were in place. They had a plan. Things were moving forward. The time was dawning to take down that serpentine bastard once and for all.


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Notes**: Let me know if this feels rushed…

It was odd, sitting there. Harry hadn't been in the Headmaster's office in nearly a year. Although it wasn't the Head_master_'s office anymore, as McGonagall was referred to as "Head_mistress_." She hadn't changed much. The portraits still lined the walls. Fawkes still sat on his perch; there was the pensieve in the corner. Everything appeared to be waiting for Dumbledore to return.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that.

The door opened and a masculine voice cleared his throat. Not really knowing what to do, Harry stood to greet the new arrival. The man who entered was a complete stranger to Harry. Wearing a Muggle suit, he appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s. He strode forward, right hand extended.

"Mr. Potter, it's a pleasure, finally," he said shaking Harry's hand repeatedly, apparently waiting for a response. It took a few seconds before Harry's brain kicked in and he reacted.

"Hello," he said lamely. _His accent was…weird…American?_

"I should probably introduce myself," he released Harry's hand and walked behind McGonagall's desk. Throwing a file on the top, he sat down, "My name is Christopher Malcolm. I am sure you have many questions about what exactly is going on and I will do my best to explain them.

"I represent a small unit within the military of the United States that deals specifically with …_unusual_ situations. We have been aware of the rise of Tom Riddle for quite some time now. We have also been aware of how you fit into the picture, Mr. Potter.

"Basically, the cell I represent has become increasingly concerned with the lack of development in mobilization against Riddle. We have offered your Ministry our services to combat this threat.

"Obviously, you can begin to figure out how you fit in to all this. Riddle marked you, so, unfortunately, you have to be involved. We have proposed sending an elite strike force to the UK for the purpose of locating and defeating Riddle once and for all. I am here to extend an invitation for you to join this group. Will you accept?"

"When do we leave?" Harry blurted out without thinking. Malcolm chuckled.

"Your enthusiasm and patriotism is very charming, Mr. Potter. If you decide to join us, we will rendezvous on 1 July."

"Why wait?"

"Well, we are assembling our team, but keep in mind that they are across the ocean and not in a centralized location at this point. Plus, there is a ton of red tape to cut through, dealing with two governmental bodies. As Riddle has been keeping quiet, we are taking our time and not cutting any corners. I am sure you are aware of how slowly bureaucrats can move." Harry snorted.

"You've got yourself a soldier, Mr. Malcolm. Where do I sign up?"

"Somehow I thought you would say that."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

"Draco Boreas Malfoy, Head Boy, salutatorian of your graduating class, impressive lineage, you're rich, _and_ good looking," Malcolm flipped through the file in his hands and looked over the top of the papers at the blond sitting silently before him, "you must be pretty popular."

"You could say that." Draco was uneasy. He hadn't felt…right…since his little tantrum after Ron had tried to _read_ him.

"May I see your left wrist, please?" Malcolm continued.

"Why?" Draco asked in response. He didn't like this. The whole thing made him uneasy. Sitting in McGonagall's office with this American wearing Muggle clothes, who seemed to know everything about him and was now asking to see his wrist.

"Oh, I think you are aware of what I am looking for, Mr. Malfoy," Malcolm's demeanor had phased from pleasantly jovial to dangerously serious.

"I don't have the Dark Mark, if that is what you are referring to."

"Forgive me if I would like to see for myself."

Feeling no alternative, Draco raised his sleeve to reveal a blank length of pale skin. Malcolm pursed his lips.

"This is unfortunate. I was under the impression that you were a fully inducted Death Dealer."

"'Death _Eater_,'" Draco corrected, "and no, I'm not, or wasn't, rather. I failed my initiation test."

"Ahh…yes, you were supposed to kill Albus Dumbledore. Well, no matter…The Cell wants you anyway."

"I beg your pardon?"

"As I explained to you when I introduced myself after you came in, the people I represent are referred to as 'The Cell.' I was sent to Hogwarts to recruit some specific students. I was told you were a Death Dealer. But no matter, we will just have to change our strategy a bit. In this line of work, it pays to be flexible. Wouldn't you agree?"

Draco just stared at him blankly. Things were beginning to fall into place.

"So those tests that were given to everyone were just a ruse…"

"Yes."

"And you already knew who you were after before you got here…"

"Yes, but if we only tested those of you who were already invited, we would have played our hand too soon. I'm sure you understand how important secrecy is."

"Sure. So what exactly do you want from me?"

"I would think that would be obvious," Malcolm gave Draco a pitying look, "we want your brain, Mr. Malfoy."

"There are others smarter than me."

Malcolm smiled at that. "Oh, yes, I know. But those that may be _smarter_ don't have the kind of knowledge you have."

"And what kind of knowledge would that be?"

"How the Dark Army operates. We know who your father is, Mr. Malfoy. We know how you were raised. What, exactly, you learned as a child and as you got older will be very useful in the time to come."

"So what are you offering me?" If this Malcolm person thought that Draco was going to just go along quietly for the joy of serving, he was sadly mistaken.

"A chance to make a life for yourself. To see what you can do. What we are offering you is a chance to become a Draco Malfoy of your own making."

"All that?" Draco muttered sarcastically.

"Oh, I think that when you give it some thought, you will see that it really is a good deal."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?"

"I guess so," Malcolm said, giving Draco a patronizing smile, "but in the meantime, you are not to discuss this with anyone outside your immediate circle of friends."

Draco just stared at him. Something had happened to him. That man had cast a spell on him. _Damnit!_

"Your _immediate_ circle of friends, Mr. Malfoy. I think you will discover before too long _exactly_ who I mean. You're free to go."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

His head was killing him. There was a buzzing sound coming from somewhere nearby that was working on him to the point where he nearly had a migraine. Ron looked again toward the bookcase to his right. He swore that's where the buzzing was coming from.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Yeah?" Ron replied to Malcolm's question. He had no idea what the man had been blathering on about for, oh…it had to have been fifteen minutes. The noise just wouldn't _stop_.

"Are you at all interested?" Malcolm asked, only slightly annoyed at being forced to repeat himself.

"Interested in what?" Ron toyed with the idea of trying to _read_ Malcolm, but he was frankly terrified to try to dive into someone he barely knew. The only person he had ever tried to _read_ by force was Malfoy, and he had anticipated what the response would be, wanted it, and had proceeded. Christopher Malcolm was a stranger, and not something Ron wanted to just start exploring.

"Interested in helping the task force track down and prosecute Tom Riddle and his followers," Malcolm sighed.

"I don't know."

"Well, Mr. Potter has already agreed, which we figured he would. Mr. Malfoy apparently needs some time to think it over," Malcolm sounded rather exasperated at Draco's reluctance.

"I'll need to think about it."

"Of course, that's to be expected. You're life isn't exactly as barren or as focused as either Mr. Potter or Mr. Malfoy. Obviously, you'll want to discuss it with Ms. Granger."

_Wait, what?_

"What a minute…how do you know about her?"

"We know a lot of things, Mr. Weasley," Malcolm shuffled the papers on the desk in front of him, "how you came across your unique gift, for example."

_Oh, wasn't that just wonderful?_ He felt a bit like a lab experiment.

"Should you decide to join us," Malcolm was continuing, "you would be cut off from your friends and family for the duration of the time the mission takes. Not having any guarantees is not an easy thing to leave the person you are romantically attached to."

_Wait a minute…this was all happening so fast._

"Leaving the person I am romantically attached to…I take it you mean that Hermione will not be 'invited' to join this little group?"

"Your supposition is correct. The people that we were interested in inviting have been. We're just waiting for your responses."

"I can't believe you don't want Hermione."

"It's not a matter of 'want.' Ms. Granger's skills and intelligence are unsurpassed. There is no denying that. However, we feel that her talents might be better used in other ways."

"Let me get this straight, you are proposing inviting Harry, myself, and Draco Malfoy off on a mission and leaving Hermione behind? Are you mad?"

"Mr. Malfoy can easily fill the research and problem solving skills that Ms. Granger excels at. Not only that, but he has the added knowledge of politics, pureblood family protocol, and Death Dealer activities."

He couldn't believe it. He was being invited to march off to war with Harry and leave Hermione behind. Christopher Malcolm was proposing breaking up "The Golden Trio" and inserting DRACO MALFOY in Hermione's place.

"You're asking me to choose between Harry and Hermione," Ron said dully, more to himself than anyone. _And why wouldn't that GODDAMN buzzing stop?!?!?!_

"It's not that simple," Malcolm replied, seemingly sympathetic to Ron's plight.

_Simple…nothing in his life had ever been simple._

Despite the fact that a part of him was terrified at the prospect of going off to battle Voldemort without Hermione as part of their arsenal, another part of him was quietly agreeing with the idea. She would be home; she would be safe.

Theoretically, anyway.

It would be like those movies she made him watch. The boy marches valiantly off to war while the girl sits safely at home waiting for him.

It was tempting. But did he really expect that Hermione would sit safely home? And did he really think that she would forgive him if he chose to go with Harry over staying with her? As much as he knew there was more to the situation than that, he couldn't shake the feeling that the root was a choice between his two best friends.

He turned weary eyes to Malcolm. "I need to think about it."

"I understand," the older man replied, "I will ask that you keep this discussion to yourself until I can meet with Ms. Granger. It shouldn't be more than 24 hours."

"That's fine," Ron huffed sarcastically. He stood to leave before he was given permission. The door to the office closed as Malcolm sat back and sighed. After rubbing his temples, he turned aggravated eyes to the bookcase.

"You were pretty hard on him," he said, massaging the tense muscles in his neck, "he was barely coherent."

"He's a powder keg, I had to throw up a pretty strong block. It'll be interesting to see what he's capable of once he gets some training and experience under his belt."

"So he'll join us?"

"That's one possibility. The future isn't set in stone, you know."

"Well, what do you _think_?" Malcolm snarled, irritated with the philosophical approach to predicting the future.

"He'll come. He nearly has his decision made. You should be more worried about her. When you tell her she isn't welcome there's no tea leaves that would be able to forecast what she'll do."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. She's too talented to waste on the front lines," Malcolm leaned forward to grab a file off the desk and leaf through the papers, "I have great plans for Hermione Granger."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

They made her wait to go last! What was that about? Hermione tried to calm herself as she strode forward and sat in the chair Malcolm was pointing to. He held his hand out to shake hers as she approached.

"THE Hermione Granger," he gushed, "I must say, this is an honor."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, taken aback, "I confess that I am unused to such greetings." Malcolm chuckled.

"Oh, I am sure that you will become used to them before too long. What did you think of the tests?"

"Honestly, I enjoyed them very much," she sat back and got comfortable, nervousness fading, "I like problem solving puzzles and games."

"Yes, we expected that. Do you have any plans for after graduation?"

Hermione just blinked.

"I assume that directly following graduation I will be fully involved with the War." Malcolm's smile faded a bit.

"Well, let's pretend there is no War. What would you like to do?"

"I can't pretend that."

"Humor me," he replied, losing more of his star-struck demeanor.

"If there were no War, I would like to continue my education. There is a magical university in London that covers a wide range of studies."

"Have you given any thought to what field you would like to go into?"

"Not really," Hermione sighed, "I always assumed I would work for the Ministry in some capacity, but now…"

"…you've lost faith in them," Malcolm finished for her when Hermione was unsure how exactly to word her thoughts.

"Yes."

"That's completely understandable," Malcolm moved to lean against the front of the desk across from her, "especially in light of how you and your friends have been treated with regards to the Riddle situation. If it makes you feel better, that's basically how the government of the United States feels."

In a way, it _did_ make her feel a little bit better, as though their complaints were warranted, not simply the whining of children.

"I have to tell you, Ms. Granger," Malcolm continued, "I had very high expectations for the results of your tests."

Hermione cringed. Test _results_, she had almost forgotten they were being evaluated.

"Not to worry, you far surpassed anything that we estimated. Have Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, or Mr. Weasley discussed their interviews with you yet?"

"No," Hermione answered slowly, confused by the apparent change in topic.

"Hmm…" Malcolm remained silent for a moment, "Hermione, may I call you Hermione?"

She nodded.

"Wonderful. Hermione, I am here recruiting people for a task force to go after Riddle. I already knew exactly who I was looking for before I got here."

Hermione leaned forward expectantly.

"I have to tell you, Hermione, that I am not going to ask you to join the task force."

Hermione blinked again. "I beg your pardon?"

"We are not going to invite you to join the task force."

"I don't understand."

"I know. This isn't easy to explain," Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest, "the short version is that your talents can be better employed elsewhere, and honestly, you are entirely too important to be a potential sacrifice as battlefield fodder."

"That doesn't make any sense," Hermione's irritation made her forget her manners, "if I am so talented, wouldn't that make me an asset to the task force?"

"Ordinarily, yes, but there are very specific slots to be filled, and there are people better equipped to fill them."

She sat back and thought for a moment.

"Is this because I'm Muggleborn?" she asked quietly.

"_Of course not_. We've Americans; we don't have that kind of racism."

Hermione huffed. Then another thought struck her.

"Is this because I am a girl?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, you obviously already invited Harry, Ron, and Malfoy. All of which are boys. Am I not invited because I'm not a boy?"

Malcolm made a face. "Hardly. There are actually several women on the task force. I keep telling you, this is about your specific talents. I have something else in mind for you."

"Well, what is it, then?"

"You worry about that later. Enjoy this time. Go to college, figure out what you want to do with your life. When the time is right, I'll contact you again."

"And I am supposed to just wait around until you get your act together?"

"Of course not. Pretend like we never had this conversation. Live your life as you would if you had never met me. When the planets align again, then we'll have something more to discuss."

"Then I take it you are dismissing me."

"Pretty much, yeah."

Completely disgusted, Hermione pushed out of the chair and walked to the door.

"Don't take it so hard, Hermione," she heard him say as she reached the door, "not everyone is built for war. You are getting a 'Get Out Of Jail Free' card; I suggest you use it."

It took all her willpower not to slam the door as she left.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Not knowing where else to go, Hermione walked slowly back to the Head Suite. She tried very hard not to think about what had happened, but it was difficult to ignore.

Harry and Ron would march off and leave her. She was unnecessary. It was similar to how things were at the beginning of the year, but hurt so much more.

Not surprising, she opened the door to find Harry, Ron, and Draco sitting in the common area. Draco was playing a video game as though it had insulted him while Harry and Ron chatted quietly over a chess match set up in the corner.

"What's the matter?" Ron asked immediately upon seeing the defeated look on her face. She stared at him blankly for a moment, unsure how to respond.

"Can you believe that we're actually going to go fight him, finally?" Harry asked jubilantly.

"Harry," Ron said quietly in a warning.

"So you knew?" Hermione's ears missed nothing. She sounded much more neutral than he would have expected.

"I figured it out during my interview yesterday," Ron replied, "he asked me not to say anything to you." Hermione just nodded and flopped down into the chair.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. Draco's ears perked up, but he didn't turn from his game.

"They didn't want me, Harry," Hermione said from her position on the chair with her head in her hands, "you and Ron are going off alone."

"What?"

"It's not about 'want,' baby," Ron tried to console.

"Wait a minute, what?!?!" Harry refused to be blocked out of the couple's conversation.

"I wasn't invited to join you," Hermione answered.

"No." Harry couldn't process this.

"Harry, calm down," Ron looked from his girlfriend to his best friend, unsure who would combust first.

"No, no, no, no! This is ridiculous! I can't go off to face him without you. I _need_ you. Why would they do this?"

"He said that my talents would be better used elsewhere."

"So they're just sending the two of us?!" Harry continued to get more agitated, volume increasing.

"They want to send three," the words were out of his mouth before Draco even knew what was happening. He was…talking about it…to POTTER of all people!

The day before, following his interview, he had tried to use Blaise as a sounding board. But whenever he tried to explain the situation, all he could do was stutter. Then he realized what the spell was that Malcolm has placed on him. _Only his immediate group of friends. Was he kidding?!?!_

"So wait a minute…you were invited but Hermione wasn't?!?! What the hell kind of sense does that make?" Harry was absolutely livid at this point.

His outburst was apparently the spark it took to ignite the tension in the room to napalm. Hermione started sobbing and ran into her room, quickly followed by Ron. Harry glared at Draco for a few minutes before also walking into Hermione's bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Draco stood alone in the common area for a few moments before throwing the game controller to the ground so forcefully that it shattered. He turned on his heel and went to his own room, slamming the door for good measure.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Notes: ** Holy crap! Nothing for nearly a month and now 2 chapters in one day!!!! Hurray.

Ugh, the angst is palpable in this one, kids. I get teary-eyed every time I read it.

I am a little concerned that some of the characters are out of character. Let me know what you think! Honestly, this was the hardest freakin' thing to write! All the other chapters seem so much easier now.

Props, as always to my hard-working beta, Kiri, without who's help none of this would be possible.

Enjoy…

Ron pulled Hermione to him so forcefully that the sound of her cheek colliding with his sweaty chest was a slippery thwack.

"Oops," Hermione giggled, throwing exhausted arms around his back.

"Sorry," Ron replied, breathing in deeply.

They had finally, _finally_ gotten the opportunity to be together again like they had been in early January. Ron tightened his arms around his girlfriend. This was all he had wanted last time, just the chance to cuddle and enjoy the afterglow. But he had to go and develop invasive mutant abilities and ruin everything. Thankfully, things seemed to be a bit more under control now.

"Do you ever…"

"What?" Ron asked her when Hermione seemed unwilling to answer, "I know you're thinking something, I don't have to be telepathic to figure that. Spit it out."

"And Harry said I was the bully."

"Well, I learned the best."

"Do you ever regret taking our relationship to this level?"

There was silence for a few moments while Ron tried to figure out his response.

"I take it you have regrets?" Ron asked, glad she couldn't see the frown on his face.

"Not regrets, per se…but it's a lot. And sometimes I wonder if maybe we should have waited."

"Like we're too young?"

"A bit. But then I think that it's for the best that we didn't. We don't know what may happen tomorrow, and since I won't be going with you…"

"Don't talk like that. I haven't made my decision yet," Ron interrupted. _Was five minutes of quiet cuddling too much to ask?_

"Oh Ron…," Hermione sighed, "you have to go."

"The decision to leave you isn't that easy."

"It's not about me and you; it's bigger than that," she sighed and moved to sit up, which was not the best idea, since Ron would have to concentrate on not staring at her breasts. Brilliantly, Hermione pulled up a sheet to cover herself, "you have to go. They need you, Harry needs you, the war needs you. You can't just stay here because you think that's what I want you to do."

"Well, what about you?"

"What about me?" Hermione sadly wrapped her arms around her knees and laid her head on her arms, "I get to stay behind and pretend to be the happy college co-ed."

"I hate this."

"I know you do, and I love you for it. But you can't make this decision based on your feelings for me."

"But Hermione, I can't even write you while we're away. I can't promise you I'd come back. I can't ask you to wait for me…"

"I wouldn't want you to do any of those things. When you go, you need to focus on being there, forget everything else. The only things you have to worry about are doing your job and surviving."

"I'm not supposed to worry about Harry?" Ron said with a small smile.

"No, _Harry_ should worry about Harry. And besides, it's not as though you'd listen if I told you not to worry about him. I just want you to watch out for yourself. I love Harry, but you're more important to me."

Sitting up, he hugged her again.

"Why does this have to be so hard?" he whispered.

"Because we're supposed to be grownups," Hermione answered, before really giving it some thought, "but honestly, when have things ever been easy?"

"True."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Harry was napping. Granted his head was resting on Hermione's hip as she reclined on the couch reading. He had become a bit more obsessed over the last few days. Ever since he had learned that Hermione was not invited to join the task force, he had been regretting his decision to sign up. He had never thought that she wouldn't be involved. It defied logic.

Hermione had come through it gracefully, encouraging Ron to join up, not grousing over the hand that she had been dealt. In the meantime, she tried to make things go back to normal.

Harry couldn't stand it. He had come to depend on her so much. Honestly, his affection for her had grown exponentially over the past year, especially since her promise that his importance in her life wouldn't change had come true. He needed her. Hermione was his left hand. The more he had seriously considered the hows of mounting a real campaign, the more he realized how right Ron and Hermione were. He was absolutely dependent on them.

_Fucking Malcolm_. He had screwed everything up. How was Harry supposed to work effectively with Draco Malfoy? Especially without Hermione there to keep the choad in check?

He heard the door slam but refused to open his eyes. Maybe if he pretended, everyone would believe he was asleep and leave him alone.

"No such luck, Harry," Ron said as he flopped into the chair, "I know you're awake."

Harry cracked open one eye.

"You really read me?" _that was disturbing_, "I didn't even notice."

"You have too many things on your mind. Careful, there."

"Oh, I'd know if it were someone less than reputable. They leave a bad taste in your mouth."

"Really?" Hermione asked, pushing Harry's hair back from his face, not that the black mop allowed that to make any difference.

"Ever suck on a pence? Kinda like that."

"Pence?" Ron asked.

"Knut, then."

"I'm more concerned with you having coins in your mouth," Hermione added dryly.

"Well, I didn't choke, so all's well."

"How was the prefect meeting, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, fine. Malfoy did fine. I don't even think anyone noticed that he's wound so tight he'll likely snap before the week is out."

"He's not happy, that's for sure."

"What's his problem?" Harry asked, wondering why he even cared.

"He doesn't like the fact that from where he sits, people are dictating his life to him," Hermione sighed, "it's understandably frustrating. And he was just starting to get out from under Lucius' shadow."

"Has he said anything else about joining up?" Ron asked.

"No. I just hope that he doesn't stay out of it to spite everyone."

"Who cares?" Harry groused, "we're better off without him."

"Malcolm wanted him for a reason, Harry. He knows something that could be useful."

"Let's talk about something else," begged Ron.

The three of them hadn't hashed the whole situation out yet. Each was avoiding it when the other two were around. Ron and Hermione had spoken about it together. Harry and Ron had spoken about it together. But anytime Harry was around Hermione, he was too upset at the reality of the situation to bring it up. Why ruin what little time they had left?

All the women in his life where leaving, either by fate or choice. The only one he had left was Luna, who didn't really count. He didn't love her, except as a friend; she didn't love him.

Would he be sad to leave her in July? Would he see her again after the school term ended in 2 months? Did he even care?

He should care, at least.

But he didn't.

_What a mess._

At least he wouldn't be worried about her safety, as he was still worried about Ginny's.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

_How could I be late?!?!_

Hermione ran into her bedroom and threw her books on the desk. If she was really quick, she could make it to the pitch before the game actually started.

It was the final Griffyndor/Slytherin game of the regular season and a lot was riding on it. She had asked Ron and Harry not to come up to the Head Suite and instead had become something of a more regular fixture in the Griffyndor common room. She wasn't going to cheer for anything but her house team, but she still had to live with Draco.

Draco had been left with very little talent from which to form a quiddich team. He had recruited basically every upper classmen from his House, including Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabbini. They actually weren't doing that badly, but were a far cry from the athletic powerhouse Slytherin had been last year.

He had been a mess all month in preparation for the game. Hermione spent as much time away from him as possible, since her very presence seemed to set him off. She was perfectly willing to do that as she only wanted to preserve the peace.

All three boys, and Ginny, had been in the locker rooms since early morning, leaving Hermione with the whole morning to herself. Wanting to get a jump start on some final paper research, she had gone to the library. Unfortunately, she had lost track of time and was now in danger of missing the beginning of the game.

She was pulling her trainers on as she hopped toward the door when a knock nearly scared her into a faint. Shoes on, she walked to the door. Opening it revealed Luna Lovegoode.

"Luna," Hermione said, out of breath, "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, hello, Hermione," right now, Luna's far-off look was very irritating, "I noticed that you weren't at the game and decided to come up and see if I could find you. Ronald will be very disappointed if you aren't there."

"I was just on my way."

"Smashing," Luna turned and began walking away without looking to see if Hermione was following her. Daft bird.

Finally getting both shoes on, Hermione made her way down the spiral staircase behind Luna.

She was fortunate; Hermione was seated comfortably before the teams left the locker room. Settling herself beside Neville, she prepared for an exciting game. Upper classman status, and the fact that Hermione was Ron's girlfriend and Neville was his roommate, granted them first row seats.

Two hours in found Hermione gripping the bar in front of her with white knuckles. Honestly, she would have one reason to be happy when school was over; she wouldn't have to worry about Harry, Ron, or Ginny injuring themselves playing Quidditch anymore. _Oh God, what if one of them decided to pursue it professionally?_

Things were going well for Gryffindor, but the Slytherin team was putting up a fight. Currently, Pansy was in possession of the quaffle and was flying as hard as she could toward Ron while the Gryffindor beaters tried to knock her back. When she got within range, she hurled the ball toward the center ring.

Ron didn't even flinch as the ball flew over his shoulder and, thankfully, between two of the goal posts. He merely sat on his broom, unmoving.

"What's the matter with him?" Neville whispered to Hermione.

"I don't know," Hermione replied without thinking, concern taking over her mental capacity.

"Does it feel colder to anyone else?" she heard Parvati ask from her other side.

Out of season lightning cracked above their heads as all eyes in the stadium looked up, trying to figure out where the bizarre weather pattern was coming from. Hermione felt a tug on her right hand.

"We have to get out of here," a voice hissed.

Turning her head, Hermione saw Luna standing beside her, pulling on her hand.

"Luna, what's going on?" Neville asked.

"Don't you get it?" she answered intensely, "They're coming for you." Now she stared at Hermione.

"Luna, who's coming?"

"No time for talk," she turned and yanked on Hermione's arm to force her to follow, "we have to get back into the school."

High above the crowd, Harry was trying to get a response from his Keeper.

"Oy, Ron…" he snapped his fingers in front of Ron's face, not getting any reaction, "come on mate. You're starting to scare me."

"Harry, what's wrong with him?" he had never heard Ginny use such a terrified tone of voice.

"Hey, Potter, Hooch is calling you down," Draco floated ten feet away, trying to make sure that he didn't look too concerned.

"He's not answering," Demelza poked at Ron's arm. The Gryffindor team massed around their teammate.

"We've got to get him down from here," Harry said, taking hold of Ron's upper arm.

Upon contact, Ron went rigid and grabbed Harry's hand.

"They're here," he said, then blinked and looked at Harry and Ginny.

"Who's here?" Ginny asked, unable to get the sound of tears out of her voice.

Whatever answer she was going to receive was obliterated by the sound of one of the doors at Hogwarts exploding. Looking toward the school, all that could be visually made out was a sea of black.

"What the fuck is that?" screamed Blaise.

"Deatheaters," Draco answered quietly. He had moved closer to Ginny and Harry so that only they would be able to hear him.

"Shite, Harry, what are we going to do?" Ginny looked up at him. Everyone else mimicked her.

"I don't know!" he cried, heart beating so loudly he was amazed he could hear anything else.

"Well, you had better figure it out," Draco hissed.

"We have to get the students somewhere safe," Ginny began.

"The forest," Draco suggested, oddly, "if we keep them in groups but dispersed near the edge, we'll be alright."

"Good," Harry blinked, getting himself back together, "Ron, you and Ginny help the students. Find any DA members you come across and have them lead individual groups.

"What are you going to do?" Ginny asked, reaching out to touch Harry's hand.

"I'm going to go to the professors and find out what they are doing. If _He's_ here, that's where I need to be." Ginny sadly nodded her head. "Go, they're getting closer."

Ginny began her descent, but Ron remained still.

"Ron, go," Harry commanded. Cold eyes were turned to look at him.

"No."

"Ron, this isn't the time to argue. I'm not going off by myself, I'll be with the professors. Go."

"No. This isn't about you. Hermione's in the castle."

"That's crazy," Harry shouted, "she was just there…"

Turning his head, he realized that Hermione's spot in the stands was empty.

"I'm going after her," Ron said, eyes turned toward the castle.

"I'll go with you," Harry replied.

"Someone has to go with Ginny," Ron said dully, "she'll need help."

"I'll go," the words were out of his mouth before Draco even knew he was speaking. The other two merely stared at him, "hell, it was my idea to begin with."

"Fine, let's go." The two Gryffindors and the Slytherin parted ways.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Slightly before the door exploded, Luna pushed Hermione against the exterior wall of the castle. They were out of harm's way and out of eyeshot when the Deatheaters began streaming past. Hermione's hand immediately reached for her wand, but Luna's arm thrown across her torso stopped her action.

After what felt like hours, the last of the Deatheaters walked out the door and Luna silently motioned them to move. Hermione remain quiet until they were inside.

"Luna, what are we doing?!? Those were Deatheaters! We should be outside, helping."

"No, they are here specifically for _you_, Hermione. We have to keep you away from them."

"I'm not going to let other people fight my battles for me, Luna," Hermione stopped walking and glared at the younger girl, "if they're here for me, then I should be out there."

"Don't be stupid, Hermione," Luna returned the glare, "you have no idea how important you are in what's to come. I can't just sit by and let something happen to you."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not important. Just trust me."

Hermione continued to stand there.

"Look, I know that you are not my best friend right now, but everything happens for a reason. If you don't trust me, too bad. Let's go." She reached out and once more took Hermione's arm, only a bit rougher this time.

"Let me go or I'll hex you," Hermione growled, wand aimed.

Luna laughed. "No you won't."

Huffing, Hermione followed as Luna led her through the halls.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

It took them very little time to reach their destination: the Astronomy Tower. Looking out, Hermione watched as Deatheaters battled professors and chased her schoolmates into the Forbidden Forest. She felt her heart clench, knowing that she could be doing something. Something other than sitting there, useless, like a princess in a tower from one of her Muggle fairy tales.

"You should try to contact Ronald," Luna said from her seated position on the floor.

"How exactly am I supposed to do that?" Hermione replied sarcastically.

"Reach out to him with your thoughts."

"Pardon?"

"He's telepathic," Luna reasoned, "he'll hear you."

"Harry told you all that?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"Harry doesn't tell me anything," Luna replied, "he doesn't have to."

"Then how do you know all this?"

"I'm a _seer_, I've _seen_ you call out to Ron."

Hermione just stood there for a moment, looking at her. _Well, that did make sense, if anything in this bizarre situation did._

"I don't know how" Hermione replied quietly.

"Calm yourself, and call out to him with your thoughts. He'll hear you."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

_Ron. Ron. I'm in the castle with Luna. We are in the Astronomy Tower._

She didn't get a response, but she didn't know if she was supposed to.

"Nothing's happening," she groused.

"Stop complaining. Just keep trying."

She kept at it for several minutes. Things seemed to move so slowly now that she was removed from the action. Hermione couldn't look out the windows anymore; it was just too frustrating and upsetting.

Her existence became a pattern of inhale, _think_, exhale, repeat as she paced the length of the room, eyes trained on the floor. Her concentration was broken when Luna suddenly leapt to her feet.

"It was all for nothing," she heard Luna whisper, "they've got us."

The door was thrown open with a thunderous crash and two masked Deatheaters appeared in the open doorway.

_RON! RON! LUNA AND I ARE IN THE ASTRONOMY TOWER! THERE ARE DEATHEATERS!!! GET HELP!!!!!_

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Ron stopped running and sagged against the wall, clutching his skull.

"Ron?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Ugh…stop screaming!" he muttered. Ron shook his head and stood. "I didn't get everything, say again…"

He appeared to be staring at nothing, mouth agape.

"Err…Ron?" Harry tried again. Ron shook his head once more and turned frightened eyes on Harry.

"Hermione and Luna…they're in the Astronomy Tower. There are Deatheaters there."

Ron and Harry spun on their heels and ran back toward the door. Mounting their brooms, they flew towards the Tower.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

"Thank you so much for your help, Miss Lovegoode. It would have taken so much longer to find the mudblood without it," a heavily accented voiced slithered beneath the mask.

Hermione wouldn't look at Luna, whatever the implications. She gripped her wand in her right hand, hiding it behind her leg.

"She thinks she'll duel us," cackled the other, separating from his companion and inching closer to Luna.

"I've done it before, Wormtail," Hermione regarded the Deatheater who had just spoken, "I can do it again."

"So the cat has claws," the first wheezed.

"You should have killed me the first time, Dolohov," Hermione said, thrusting her wand out to send a petrificus in his direction. It was blocked, while Hermione was hit with a hex from Pettigrew. Luna joined the fray, but it became obvious to the two girls very quickly that they were in over their heads. While they were successfully deflecting hexes thrown directly at them, the confined, curved space of the room allowed spells to be ricocheted off the walls to hit them from behind. Eventually, Hermione and Luna were huddled by a window, the open space at least leaving their backs ironically safe.

"Turn into a bird," Luna hissed, "fly away."

"I'm not going to just leave you here!"

Luna, patience worn out, rushed toward Hermione and pushed her out the window.

For the first few seconds of freefall, Hermione could do nothing but stare blankly at the oncoming ground in shock. Finally, instinct took over and she took on her falcon form. She glided on air currents and turned in the direction of the battle raging by the edges of the forest.

Maintaining her animal form, she dove at the heads of Deatheaters, trying to pull off as many masks and generally be as debilitating as possible. After several minutes of this, she was hit with a stunning hex and crashed into a tree.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

When Hermione awoke again, it was night. She was in the hospital wing, and if the sounds of the breathing were any indication, most, if not all, of the beds were full. She very gently turned her aching head to the left. Her neighbor was Luna.

"Luna?"

She blinked and slowly turned her face to meet Hermione's. Hermione gasped when she saw the cuts and bruises on the other girl's face.

"Oh God…what did they do to you?"

"Several cutting curses, got thrown into the walls several times, I don't understand why they didn't just kill me," she croaked, took a deep breath, then continued, "maybe they were working up to it. Unfortunately most of the damage I did myself."

"What happened?"

"I figured I had the right idea, sending you out the window. So I jumped."

"Oh, Luna…"

"It was either that or let them have the satisfaction of killing me, or something worse. But most of the damage I sustained was from hitting three or four eaves on the way down. I fell about forty feet before Harry caught me."

"He caught you?"

"Yes, he and Ron were on brooms flying up to the Tower to rescue us. How heroic. Ron was in quite a state when he got to the top and couldn't find you. He chased Dolohov and Pettigrew through about four floors before they finally hit him with something to slow him down."

"Oh God, is he alright?!?!"

"I think so. I heard the ruckus as Harry was carrying me here. Neville found him, apparently. If he's still here, I'm sure you'll find out about it in the morning."

Hermione rolled her head back to look at the ceiling. _Ron_.

"I told you he would hear you," Luna whispered.

"Anyone else? Did you hear about anyone else?" Hermione asked.

"Madame Pomfrey started working on me after that, so most is a blur. But like I said, you'll find out tomorrow, I'm sure," she yawned.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from your rest," Hermione whispered.

Luna cracked a bizarre smile, "oh, don't worry on it. I'll be in for a good long sleep in no time at all."

A few seconds went by in silence.

"Hermione?"

"Yes."

"Would you keep talking to me? I don't really like the quiet."

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"What do _you_ want to talk about?"

"I don't really know."

"Sure you do."

"What do _you_ think, then?"

"I think you want to ask me about Harry."

"Isn't that too personal?"

"It's not as though you're someone off the street, you know?"

"Do you love him?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because he needed it, and I wanted to do my part for the war effort. Not every relationship is meant to be like you and Ronald."

"Ron and I."

"Yeah, you know…A love for the ages that will stand the test of time…"

"Right…"

"You forget, I'm a _seer_, I've _seen_ it."

"_Seen_ it?"

"Yes. And let your daughter sleep with a nightlight. She'll really be scared of the dark, but she'll be trying hard to be brave, so she won't want you to know."

Hermione struggled over the lump in her throat. _Her daughter. Ron's daughter_. She couldn't think about that now.

"If you can see the future, why didn't you tell us about the attack?"

"Some things are set in stone, others aren't. Some things I don't get until just before they happen, like today. I should have known that something would happen though," she faded off for a second, "just a few more weeks and I would have been certain; I could have told him. Maybe it's for the best this way."

"Could have told him what?"

"It's not important now. Or at least, it won't be by morning. I want you to tell Harry something, though."

"Yes."

"He's not alone. He never will be; and it goes against his nature to use his most powerful gift."

"His most powerful gift?"

"You, and Ron, his friends."

"I don't know how helpful I'll be. They're going off; I'm staying here."

"I told you you were important," Luna replied quietly, "what difference does it make where you are?"

"How am I supposed to help if I'm not there and can't contact them?"

"You'll figure it out."

Another few moments went by as the conversation lulled.

"What's being a bird like?" Luna whispered.

"It's amazing, and terrifying. Oddly, the best part about it is flying. I can't understand why I am so terrified of flying on a broom, but as a bird, it makes me very content. Maybe it's instinct, I don't know. I love the speed, the different sensations, the heightened senses. It's scary though, too. McGonagall said that if we do it too much, or stay in our animal form for too long, we won't want to turn back into a human. Or we'll forget how. Imagine, forgetting to be a human, when that is what…" Hermione turned her head again to look at Luna. She noticed that the girl had closed her eyes.

She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Somehow.

Luna wasn't sleeping.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note**: Only three more chapters to go, then a break, and then THE SEQUEL!!!

And Kiri has decided to stay with us…HURRAY!

The list was long:

Romilda Vane: Missing

Ritchie Coote: Deceased

Cho Change: Missing

Natalie McDonald: Deceased

Andrew Kirke: Missing

Demelza Robins: Deceased

Zacharias Smith: Missing

Hannah Abbott: Deceased

Justin Flinch-Fletchley: Missing

Terry Boot: Deceased

Michael Corner: Missing

Mandy Brocklehurst: Deceased

Lisa Turpin: Missing

Millicent Bulstrode: Deceased

Malcolm Baddock: Missing

Theo Nott: Deceased

Pansy Parkinson: Missing

Graham Prichard: Deceased

Luna Lovegoode: Deceased

On and on the list went. Every house had been touched. The list of the wounded was even longer, but at least most of those were cursory physical injuries. The psychological ones would take much longer to manifest.

The morning after the attack found McGonagall blaming herself. She had written up her letter of resignation to send to the school's board of governors before dawn, after touring the damage to the buildings and visiting the hospital wing. It was only quick acting by Remus and Mad-Eyed that prevented her from quitting.

The morning after the attack found the Order, despite arriving late, still there, searching the woods for the students and faculty that remained on the "missing" list. They were starting to give up hope. And what no one wanted to verbalize was that maybe, just maybe, at least some of those listed as missing were alive and well, and now bearing tattoos on their left wrists.

The morning after found Hermione clutching Luna's now-cold hand, staring mutely out into space. She had cried all the tears she had in her, and now merely lay there, doing nothing. When Madame Pomfrey saw them, she was worried that she had lost both of them, as Hermione didn't even blink when Pomfrey began aggressively trying anything she could think of to help Luna.

"It won't work," Hermione finally whispered, "she's dead."

The morning after found Draco face to face with Ginny Weasley in the Great Hall. The students who were able were making a show of carrying on with everyday life, as though they knew it was important to retain some sense of normalcy.

"That doesn't look to bad," he said, pointing to the bandage on her upper arm.

"Nah, it hardly even stings anymore," Ginny smiled, "I'll be right as rain tomorrow. How are you?"

"Fine. Leg's mended. I haven't seen Hermione," he took a deep breath, "do you know where she is?"

"Hospital wing, last I heard," she sighed and messaged her shoulder, "I was just on my way there to see her, want to come with?"

Draco nodded silently and fell into step beside her as Ginny turned toward the doors.

The morning after found Ron blinking unhappily at the bright sunlight streaming through the windows of the 7th year boys' dorm in Gryffindor Tower. _How had he gotten here?_ He groggily got up to see Harry standing at a window, looking out over the damage to the Quidditch pitch and the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"The damage doesn't look as bad from up here," Ron commented over Harry's shoulder.

"We weren't ready," was Harry's stoic reply.

"Of course we weren't ready. They keep us in a perpetual state of un-readiness at this bloody school," Ron winced and rubbed his hip bone. _Getting hexed into a wall hurts._ "Have you been down to see Mione or Luna yet?"

"No."

"Well, that's where I'm headed. Wanna come?"

"No breakfast for you?"

Ron just stood there for a moment, staring at the back of Harry's head. Finally, his friend turned around and grinned at him.

"Oh, Christ, I died, didn't I?" Ron asked.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because the morning after finds you cracking jokes! Let's go. Maybe Hermione can riddle out what's wrong with you."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTTLTLTLT

Surprisingly, Ron entered Hermione's sectioned-off area of the hospital wing to find his sister and Malfoy already enjoying a visit. He immediately went over to hug her. His need matched hers, as Hermione held on for several moments before letting go. He kissed her forehead and hugged her again.

"You were amazing," he whispered, "I can't believe you _called_ me like that…"

"I was useless."

"Don't say that."

"I stayed up in the Tower with Luna when everyone else was fighting."

"Well, if you want to lay guilt on yourself for that, than Ron and I are just as guilty," reasoned Harry, "since we went after you."

"Harry," Hermione breathed into Ron's chest. Her sadness was overpowering now. Ron had to put some distance between them before he could think straight, she was feeling so much.

Harry came forward to hug Hermione. She held him tight and Ron could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"What happened?" he asked suddenly.

Ginny huffed, "that's a stupid question. What didn't happen?"

"Hermione," Ron started again, putting a hand on her arm. She pulled away from Harry and looked him in the eye.

"I'm so sorry," she said to him, a hint of anguish in her tone.

"Sorry about what?" Harry asked, not liking where this was going. He heard Ron inhale sharply and Hermione's eyes darted over to him.

"No," Ron said.

"Someone had better tell me what the hell is going on right now!" Harry hated when they did this, this couple-telepathy thing that they had done even before Ron had _real_ telepathy.

"Luna has died, Harry," Hermione said, not wanting to continue the suspense.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated.

_No…no, this wasn't possible. They wouldn't go for her. He didn't love her! She wouldn't be a tool for them to use against him. She would be safe._

"No!"

"He's gonna pop!" Draco shouted, leaping out of his chair as Harry threw up all over where Draco's shoes had just been, feel to his knees, and fainted.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

When he opened his eyes again, there was a blurry brown mass in front of him. Without his moving, his eyesight cleared and he blinked when he realized that Hermione was laying on her side facing him.

"Hey," she said.

"Where am I?"

"You're lying on a bed in the hospital wing."

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you to wake up."

"Where is everyone else?"

"They're down by the lake. Ginny's put together a little memorial service for Luna, and the others…and don't even think about telling me you won't go," Hermione rushed to continue when she saw Harry start to make his "stubborn" face.

"I don't want to go."

"I don't care. You _need_ to. We all _need_ to," she closed her eyes for a moment, "there were many who were lost yesterday. Those of us who were spared need to grieve."

"You aren't going to let me out of this, are you?"

"No…I don't really even know why I am so adamant about this, I can't figure out why it's important. I just know it is."

"That doesn't sound at all like you."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione closed her eyes as the tears began to fall again. Amazingly, Harry wasn't completely terrified by her crying this time. He merely leaned forward and patted her shoulder soothingly.

"We're going to go on," he said in a voice and with words that he wasn't exactly sure were his own, "we're going to fight. And we're going to win."

"I hope so," Hermione sniffled, "I can't take much more of this."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The group was rather diverse, although they were mostly Gryffindors. That house seemed to have come through with the most students intact. However, it was a drastically reduced group. They stood in small clumps with their housemates, those classifications seemingly more important today. Just as they were about to begin, everyone heard a noise off to the left.

Draco Malfoy approached with a scowl on his face. A small bouquet of flowers was clutched tightly in his right fist.

"What are you doing here?" Ron challenged, arms crossed in front of his chest in the position he thought was the most intimidating.

"I came to pay my respects," he replied sullenly, as though the wind had been taken out of him.

"Everyone is welcome here today," answered Hermione, giving Ron a quelling look. He dropped his arms.

The late May sun was shining brightly, in disrespect to the battle that had just taken place and the reason for the small student gathering. It was very warm with a gentle breeze. Despite the melancholy reason for being there, everyone was calm. Hermione looked around the group.

"Would anyone like to speak?"

"I kinda wish we hadn't called her 'loony,'" said Ginny, "I mean, she was strange. But it was mean."

"No," Harry spoke up suddenly, "Don't regret that. She liked it, even though she knew it was meant to be embarrassing. She said it made her feel almost famous, since she had an alias." He made a wan smile. Ginny grinned back at him reassuringly and squeezed his hand.

"I'll miss Mandy, she had a wicked sense of humor," added a Ravenclaw.

Gradually most of the people in the circle said something about someone that they had known, had lost, and would miss. Some told stories that got everyone, even Harry, laughing. The only ones who had not spoken were Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

"Luna was a great ally," said Ron finally, "she's probably the bravest person I know." He looked at Hermione.

"Draco, would you like to say something?" Hermione asked cautiously. He took a deep breath.

"This is a really shitty thing that has happened," he spat out. He paused for a moment. "And it has got to stop."

"Yes, it does," said Ron simply.

"Yes. I was with Luna when she died," Hermione said with difficulty. Harry grimaced at the sentence. "She gave me a message for Harry," she continued, looking at her friend across from her, "but I think we all need to hear it. Not everyone knows what happened to Luna and how she died; that's not important. I was with her in the hospital wing yesterday. She knew what was coming and what she said is very important. She said that the greatest weapon in Harry's arsenal is us, his friends" Hermione stopped and looked at all of them, "Harry is unbeatable because of us. Because we love him. They can harm us, they can even kill us, but that won't destroy us. But she also said that using that resource goes against Harry's nature," she turned to look at the man she had come to love as a brother, "We know the risks, Harry. We accept them. Don't shoot yourself in the foot because you want to be 'noble.' We've all seen where that leads. If we remember this day, if we work together, we'll win." Hermione closed her eyes and a few tears spilled down her cheeks. Ron hugged her to him. He looked down at her face.

"Yes, we will," he said.

People began to disperse after putting flowers on the rock. Soon the only ones who remained were Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco.

"Look, I know that you all don't like me," Draco said resolutely, "But there are some things that I want to get this off my chest. I know why I was chosen to go and a lot of it has to do with my father. He is a bad man, and he does bad things. He does things like this, like killing children. And as much as I may disagree with you all on a lot of things, this isn't one of them. I don't want anymore people I know getting killed just because of a disagreement. I'm sorry for your loss, Potter." He stopped at this and looked at the other boy, "it was a stupid waste and it has to stop."

He looked at the other three, turned on his heel and walked away.

"He has certainly changed," remarked Ginny.

"He's growing up," said Ron, "we all are."

Hermione looked at Harry. "You may cry now, Harry. We're all family here."

That did it. He could no longer take it. Harry dropped to the ground and began to sob. Ginny knelt down to embrace him. All the pain that he had been holding in since Sirius' death came pouring out now and there was nothing but the dirt there to catch it. Luna was right, though. They were his arsenal, and that put them in danger. And that made Harry Potter terrified.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Hermione trudged up the stairs to the head suite. Everything seemed to take so much more energy these days. She opened the door to see Draco sitting on the couch before the fire. He didn't turn to look at her when she entered.

"Isn't it a little warm for a fire?" she asked, exhausted, by what she couldn't tell. All she seemed to do lately was sleep.

"I'm not cold," he replied dully, not making any sense.

"I'm watching it," he clarified.

"Watching it?"

"Yes."

"How's that coming?" she threw herself into the chair to Draco's right.

He finally turned to look at her, "it's really boring."

"Then why do it?"

"I've been sitting here thinking that. I was thinking that, well, I don't want to read a book, and watching the fire is really boring, so maybe I should pop in a movie and watch that, or play a video game. Hell, even listening to something on the stereo would be more entertaining."

"So why don't you?"

"Because they are all Muggle devices. Has my life changed so much that I am completely dependent on Muggle technology to entertain myself?" he shifted and produced an orange ball, which he threw at Hermione. She caught it easily.

"What is this?" she asked him.

"It's supposed to be a basketball."

"A basketball?"

"Yes, I transfigured one of your slippers," Hermione shot him a dirty look at that, "not that it did any good. It's broken."

"What's the matter with it?"

"It won't bounce."

"Oh," for some reason, Hermione found herself cradling the ball in her arms, "so I take it you are interested in basketball…"

He turned intense eyes on her, "I am utterly obsessed with it."

"So?"

"I am utterly obsessed with a sport that I have never played, that uses objects that I have never come into contact with, following rules that I have never heard. And when I tried to adapt it for myself, I failed. I couldn't even create a simple Muggle toy."

"And this upset you?"

"Yes. Living with you for eight months has changed my life to such an extent that I can hardly recognize myself some days."

"It's understandable that you would be upset by that."

"I wouldn't be surprised if this is the very reason why that crazy old maniac made me Head Boy to your Head Girl."

"Oh?"

"What better way to show me 'the error of my ways' then by showing me all that a life spiced with Muggle-ness could provide," Draco crossed his arms over his chest, "he knew that you would condition me with nudges and caresses. I would change before I even realized what was happening."

"Despite the fact that I am nauseous with you using the word 'caress' to describe something happening between us, I think you are giving me too much credit. We are all at the point in our lives where we are supposed to become the people we are going to be as adults."

"What?"

"Well, typically, after school, the later years of our teens and early years of our '20s are used to solidify the adults that we will be. I always assumed that we would all go on to university, but a pesky megalomaniac has other ideas and instead we are marching off to war. Or, at least some of us are…"

"The adults that we will be…did Malcolm talk to you?"

"He talked to all of us; you know this, Draco."

"No, I mean, did he talk to you about me?"

"There really wasn't time, between the gushing and then the telling me I wasn't wanted," Hermione made a face and then thought better of her grousing, "just out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"Because that's what he offered me."

"Pardon?"

"The chance to become a Draco Malfoy of my own making."

"Well, who made the Draco Malfoy that you are now?"

"I have no idea who that person _is_, how should I know?"

"Well, who made the Draco Malfoy that you were a year ago?"

This stopped him cold. He knew, he just didn't want to say. But it wasn't a huge secret, he was pretty sure she knew anyway.

"Lucius," he finally reluctantly said.

"That's too bad," she replied pitilessly, "I wonder what a Draco Malfoy made by Draco Malfoy would be like."

"What do you think he would be like?"

"Well, I can't answer that. Only you can. I'd tell you to listen to your heart, but I'm not entirely sure you have one, so…"

"Thanks. What is this, 'beat a wounded dog' day?"

"Don't be so melodramatic. Is there any reason why I should be all sweet and sunny to you?"

"Well, you _are_ one of the good guys, they _are_ supposed to be stalwart and true at all times."

"Have you been reading my Fairy Tales?"

"No," he looked offended, but slightly guilty at the same time.

She smirked, "Good guys and bad guys aren't as black and white as that. Use your brain, Draco. Listen to what your intellect and logic tell you. Then you'll know what a Draco Malfoy of his own making would look like."

She got up to go into her room for yet another nap. Before she was completely through the door, she turned to face him once again.

"He might turn out to be a pretty incredible guy. If that Draco Malfoy showed up at the party, imagine what we could do…" she left him with that, closing the door quietly behind her.

Leaving Draco to just sit and resume staring at the fire.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Malcolm-

I don't really know if this will reach you, and I don't particularly care. If I don't hear from you beforehand, I can get all the pertinent information from Potter and Weasley.

I'm in.

-DM


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Notes: **I know, right? Where have I been?

Well, suffice it to say, things have not been running smoothly in RL.

But that's neither here nor there. The last chapters are written. And now they are being posted.

Living through a catastrophe changes a person, in subtle or overt ways. The reactions run the spectrum from depression to elation, a new lease on life to post-traumatic stress disorder.

It was with this new schizophrenic outlook that Hogwart's Graduating Class of 1998 looked to the future. Some determinedly pretended that the worst was behind them, and imagined the time to come as a one of peace and adventure. Others, perhaps more realistic, realized that they were once more living in a grace period, a quiet before the storm.

Classes had pretty much ground to a halt. The students and professors that remained still showed up in the appointed rooms at the appointed times, but no one was really interested in work.

A team of four Ministry officials quietly arrived at the school two weeks after "the battle," as it was now being called. The seventh years sat their NEWTs, no one, not even Hermione, really expending much energy on them. However, with fighting for their lives, taking exams that would pretty much determine their future success, and trying to figure out how to live a life outside of school, the seventh years on the whole were a mass of exhausted, yet manickly excited, bodies.

With this in mind, Hermione and Draco threw themselves into the plans for the leaving ball for their classmates. They had procured a deejay's services in the fall and were deep in discussion over food and decorations.

Hermione found she could only spend half as much time forcing her brain to work as she used to. The other half of her time found her attached bodily to Ron in some way. Facing the Deatheater who had attacked her two years before and knowing that Ron would be leaving at the end of the month made Hermione a little clingy, even to her own eyes.

Not that she would change anything.

It was rather nice devoting so much effort to simply spending time with her boyfriend. She rather imagined this would have been what their summer would have been like in an alternate reality, one where their lives weren't in danger at every turn and one where Ron wouldn't be marching off to war.

The Wednesday after NEWTs, Hermione surprised her friends by suggesting going out to lay around in the sunshine. The vitamin D would put them all in a better mood.

"Whatever, Hermione," Ginny said at the reasoning for the invitation, giggling as she grabbed the other girl's hand to run outside.

Shortly thereafter, the Gryffindor Four were relaxing in the sunshine.

"Why is it that every major exam seems to coincide with a major catastrophe?" Hermione asked idly that afternoon, picking a blade of grass out of Ron's shirt from where she leaned against him.

"Isn't every major exam a catastrophe in its own right?" Ron asked, expanding the social grooming ritual to pluck some grass out of her hair.

"There's a major catastrophe at the end of every year; what difference does it make?" Harry retorted.

"It's convenient that the forces of darkness wait until school is basically over before setting out to get you, Harry," Ginny smiled and nudged him with her foot.

Each seventh year student was allowed to invite any student of their choice to the Leaving Ball. The whole concept of the thing had Harry chewing his lip until it nearly bled.

_What to do?_

He _really_ wanted to ask Ginny to go with him.

Despite everything, his vow to keep away from her to keep her safe, his completely messed-up relationship with Luna, his completely messed-up relationship with her, he couldn't stop being obsessed with her.

He seemed to be obsessed with a lot of women, lately. Hermione's friendship…Luna's…, well, _that_,…and Ginny's…love. _Ugh! Why did his life always have to be so goddamn difficult!_

_What's up, mate?_

Harry sat up suddenly and looked around.

_Don't make it so obvious. Just think something._

_Ron_. Damn, he was getting really good at this. Harry sat and thought for a moment, allowing everything, well, _almost everything_, to stream unrestricted to his friend's mind.

After a few minutes, Ron sat up and stretched.

"Merlin, I'm starved. Mione, you want to come with me to the kitchens? I could go for a snack…" Ron asked, rising and holding out a hand for his girlfriend.

"Sure, Ron," taking the outstretched appendage, she rose, then turned to look back at Harry and Ginny, "do you lot want anything?"

"No thanks," Ginny replied, not looking up from her magazine.

"Yeah, could you bring me something to drink?" Harry asked. The couple nodded and made their way back to the castle.

"I can't believe he's hungry again," Ginny muttered, "where does he put it all? I would kill for that metabolism."

"What?" Harry was confused.

"I wish I could eat as much as Ron and not get fat," Ginny explained, still keeping her nose in the pages of Teen Witch.

"You're not fat," Harry said, still confused. _Ugh, what the hell was she going on about?_

"Thanks," Ginny replied dryly.

Harry just sat there, arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face. How was he supposed to ask her to the Leaving Ball now? She was talking about people being fat and such.

Ron and Hermione's trip to the kitchens was all a ruse to give Harry some time alone with Ginny. The plan was for Harry to ask her to go with him, the other two would return, everyone would rejoice, and there you go. But somehow, things had gotten out of hand.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Ginny asked, finally turning her sunglasses in his direction to look at him.

"What?"

"You obviously wanted them out of the way for something. Just spit it out."

"Ron told you that?!?!"

Ginny sat up and giggled, "of course not. And Draco said _I_ was easily read. Here I thought you were the champ at blocking your emotions."

He just stared at her. He had let her walk him right into a trap.

"It was that obvious?"

"Well, normally, you don't want to be alone in the same room with me. Now, while we aren't exactly in a room, per se, this is the same basic thing. What's up?"

"Do you have a date for the Leaving Ball?" Harry decided that the direct approach would save him pain in the long run. Plus, it might throw her off a bit, since he usually took the circuitous route.

"Err…no, as I am not a seventh year, I hadn't given it much thought."

"Would you go with me?" courageous though he may be, Harry couldn't look at her. Instead, he focused on punishing some of the grass near him with decapitation.

"Why are you asking me this?" Ginny asked quietly, pushing her sunglasses up off her face to really look at him.

"Because I really want you to go with me."

"Harry…," Ginny hugged her knees to her chest, "I don't know if it's such a good idea for us to go down this road again."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that we had attended a Leaving Ball together before."

"You know, the sarcasm isn't helping your argument," _God, he could get her right cranky with little to no effort,_ "this is exactly what I'm talking about. We can't even discuss going to a party together without fighting."

"You're the one who's making a huge deal over the whole thing. All I asked you for was your company. I'm not talking about getting married or something." He threw a rock in his irritation.

"Would you have asked me if Luna were still alive?" she could be blunt too.

"Would you believe me if I said 'yes,'" she shouldn't forget she was dealing with the champ.

"No," she answered honestly.

"I told you before, not that you were listening, that I didn't love Luna, I didn't fancy Luna, we were just friends. And that isn't just me being a bloke, she felt the same way. Would I have wanted to spend my last night at Hogwarts, the place that has been the closest thing I have ever had to a home, with the possible exception of _your_ house, with _her_ instead of _you_? I don't think so. So _whatever_, figure it out. Either you want to go with me or not." Tantrum gaining speed, he violently pushed himself off the ground and began stalking to the castle. He passed Ron and Hermione on their way back from the kitchens.

"I'll deal with _that_," Ginny heard Hermione say to her brother, "you take care of the other." She watched Ron walk toward her out of the corner of her eye. He plopped down on the ground beside her.

"So what happened this time?"

"Like you don't already know?" Ginny didn't want to talk to Ron about Harry. Ron was _Harry's_ friend. She wanted to talk to Hermione. Hermione was clever with ways of torturing people, and she wasn't very forgiving either. At least, she pretended to not be forgiving to make Ginny feel better.

"How did you draw the short straw?" she asked sourly after a few moments of silence had passed.

"What makes you think you're the short straw instead of Harry?"

"Please," Ginny was downright disgusted.

"Why don't you just tell me what happened, instead of being such a big baby about the whole thing?"

Ginny gave him a nasty look, but decided to spill when it appeared that Ron was not going to care about her personal privacy.

"He asked me to go to the Leaving Ball with him."

"…and…?"

"And we had an argument."

"About what?"

"About Luna, about him asking me, about everything, I guess," Ginny huffed in defeat. It really did sound ridiculous when she said it out loud to another person. _Why __**did**__ she get all upset at Harry?_

"Well, why did you?" Ron asked quietly, when it appeared that his sister wasn't going to verbalize or answer her own question.

"That isn't nice."

"No, but it _is_ helpful," he said, sitting up and putting an arm around Ginny's shoulders.

"Does torturing him really make you feel better?"

"No, but he should suffer."

"Oh, I agree. But it doesn't really work if you're miserable too."

Ginny laid her head against Ron's shoulder. _He really was her favorite brother._

"I knew it."

"Well, that was for your benefit," she looked up at him and smiled.

"Do you want to go to the Ball with Harry or not?"

"I don't know."

"Well, sweetie, that's what you've got to figure out."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

It seemed as though every single male Gryffindor seventh year was assembled in the entrance hall. Dean, Seamus, and Neville stood beside the gigantic doors waiting for Harry and Ron to finally arrive.

At last they appeared, slinking down the hall from the oddest possible direction.

"Where have you two been?" asked an irritated Dean.

"We were trying to make sure that Hermione wasn't around," replied Harry.

The boys were about to open the doors when a very familiar voice made them all groan inwardly.

"And just where do you lot think you're off to?" They all turned to face Hermione, arms crossed over her chest, right toe tapping.

"Err…." She raised an eyebrow.

"We were just going to run out to get some supplies for the graduation festivities," answered Ron, placatingly.

"What sort of supplies?" she continued.

"The liquid kind," said Seamus under his breath. Ron could have kicked him. _Didn't he know that Hermione's hearing…_

"Lovely, alcohol." She answered her own question. _Damn_. Dean gave Seamus a dirty look.

"Come on, Mione, ninety percent of us will be 18 by graduation. So there really isn't any harm in it," reasoned Harry.

"And where is this alcohol supposed to come from?"

"The fully stocked liquor cabinet at Grimmauld Place," laughed Neville. Hermione inhaled. Everyone else waited for the reprimand.

"Well, you all had better hurry before McGonagall catches you." Five jaws dropped open in shock. Ron and Harry looked at each other.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Thanks, Mione," said Neville, running for the door.

"Thank you," said Seamus, hands prostrate before he turned and fled.

"Mille mercis, kiddo," replied Dean.

"You're the best," indulged Harry, hugging his sister and placing a quick kiss on her cheek before he, too, headed for the door. Ron just looked at her.

"You know, I think Percy was right."

"Oh?" she asked, genuinely confused. He took a step closer until he was directly next to her and looked down at her.

"We are a bad influence on you." He took a step back. Hermione snaked her arm out and grabbed his belt loop, holding him in place. She looked at him wickedly. He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her.

"COME ON, RON," Harry called from the door. Ron reluctantly pulled away.

"Right, right…coming." He looked at her apologetically and ran for the door after his friends.

Draco came walking up beside her just in time to watch the boys leave the castle.

"What was that all about?" he asked a dreamy-looking Hermione.

"Oh, nothing," she turned to face him, "Want to go to dinner?"

"'Course." They turned and walked into the Great Hall.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The graduation ceremony earlier in the day had seemed interminable to the 15 remaining 7th years. As the event was sponsored by the Ministry, no mention was made to the battle that had taken place, despite the wounds that were still obviously healing on many of the students.

Not that they particularly cared.

Every single one of them seemed intent on watching the clock, waiting for 7 p.m. to roll around so that they could "get their groove on," as Hermione had put it.

The magic hour was finally there and all the graduating students, and their dates, gathered in the main foyer, waiting for the Head Boy and Head Girl to officially open the festivities.

Ron pulled at his collar again, as Ginny slapped his hands away. Reaching up to fix her brother, _again_, she whispered to him, "what is your problem? You're acting like a nervous wreck."

"I'm not nervous," he made a face and pushed her hands away, "I'm just uncomfortable."

"This seems like more than discomfort." _Maybe he's going to ask Hermione to marry him, and that's why he's nervous._

"Sorry to disappoint you, Gin, but Mione and I won't be getting engaged any time soon."

"Well, thank Merlin for that," Draco drawled, walking up to them.

"You have a vested interest in Hermione's marital situation, Malfoy?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to look more suave and confident than he felt. He didn't have that great of a track record where Balls were concerned.

"Hardly," Draco sneered, "I just think we all have other, more important things to worry about right now then big, flashy weddings."

"How right you are," said a new voice. Four heads turned to see Hermione standing at the bottom of the stairs, "Sorry I took so long…my hair." She shrugged.

In order to have some sort of "theme" for the night, everyone was told to wear their house colors. For the boys, this was easily done by wearing their ties. The girls got to be a little more creative. Hermione and Draco, as the Head Boy and Head Girl, had decided to just don black attire, with small accents of their house colors. Therefore, Draco had a small silver and green pocket square peeking out of his black jacket. Hermione, on the other hand, wore a simple black dress, but she carried a scarf whose muted colors traveled back and forth between scarlet and gold.

"About time you showed up," Draco said, offering Hermione his arm. They walked to the doors and officially started the Ball.

"You know, just once," Ron groused, walking in behind the herd with Harry and Ginny, "I would like to enter a party with my own girlfriend."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

"Shite," Neville muttered as Seamus bounced the ping pong ball into the center cup again. Five hands reached out and grabbed the cups in front of them, desperately trying to drink the contents and get the cup back on the table before the others. Harry was slowest this time, as the amount of alcohol he had consumed (Dean and Seamus were out to get him, he was sure of it) and his inexperience with drink were wreaking havoc on his reflexes.

"Oh, sorry mate," Dean smiled cheekily, "looks like you have to chug the center." Harry made a face, but did as he was told.

"That's right, bitch," Seamus was being a bit of a jerk, "drink up."

Hermione caught the last of Seamus' comment as she walked up behind Ron and wrapped her arms around his stomach.

"So, how are the festivities going over here?" she asked, nudging Ron's arms with the side of her head.

"Oh, shmashing," Harry answered, barely coherent at this point. Hermione looked at him and then turned eyes back to Ron.

"You had better take it easy there, or you'll be no use to me tonight at all," Hermione attempted to whisper into Ron's ear, but that completely backfired, since she had to speak loud enough for him to hear her over the music, which meant that everyone else could also hear her.

"Yaoza," Seamus said, staring at Hermione with new respect. Ron gave him a dirty look but turned indulgent eyes on his girlfriend.

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint you," he smiled, just a tad drunk, then looked around, "Oy! Malfoy! Get over here."

Draco looked over from where he stood on the dance floor, sandwiched between two blondes. Easing past the two girls, he walked over to where the Gryffindor males stood.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Take my place, yeah?"

"Err…," Draco hesitated, looking at the three other boys, and Harry, "are you sure that's fair? I mean, it's obvious that they're all pretty pissed already. That isn't much competition for me."

"I can drink your pasty English arse under the table any day!" Seamus retorted belligerently. Ron just chuckled to himself and Draco stood up taller.

"Fine, then, Paddy," Draco bellied up to the table, "let's play."

Ron took that opportunity to drag Hermione away and back out onto the dance floor.

"That was a rather clever trick," Hermione commented once they were a few feet away. She slid her hands up Ron's chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close.

"Yes, it was," he replied, laying his head on top of hers and breathing her in, "you know, sometimes I even amaze myself."

Meanwhile, Harry had become bored with the game, since Draco seemed to be making it his life's pursuit to land the ping pong ball into Seamus' cup at every opportunity. _Served the wanker right_. He wandered away from his mates and went to look for his date. He saw her over by the Patil Twins and Ernie MacMillan, who was dancing up a storm.

"Hey Ginny, wanna dance?" now, to Harry's ears, this sounded perfectly spoken and grammatically correct. Everyone else, on the other hand, only heard nonsensical syllables. Ginny just stared at him for a moment.

"Are you asking me to dance?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, reaching forward and taking her hand. He then proceeded to drag her onto the dance floor. Thankfully, a slow song was coming on, so all he really needed to do was stand there. He wrapped his arms around Ginny and pulled her as close to his chest as he could get her, resting his head beside hers.

Ron had the unfortunate experience of watching this whole thing, and turned nauseous eyes to Hermione.

"Oh, Mione…"

"No, Ron, I don't think anyone will notice if we leave."

"You read my mind," he smiled slyly down at her. Looking around to make sure that every else was otherwise occupied, they snuck out the door and up to the Head Suite.

Harry swayed, enjoying the feeling of having Ginny back in his arms.

_Where she is meant to be_, a little voice inside his head whispered. Harry slapped at his ear to get the voice to just shut up and let him enjoy this.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, nervous that she would accidentally be on the receiving end of the slapping.

"Yeah, just had an itch," he was a little more coherent now.

"Ginny, I'm so glad you're here with me."

"Wow, thanks Harry," Ginny replied, genuinely shocked, "although, I'm not sure how important my presence is."

"It's _really_ important. It's _the most_ important," Harry muttered.

"Then why did you throw me away?" she just couldn't help herself. DAMNIT!

Harry stopped, pulled back, and looked at her. "Is that what you think happened?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"How many times do we have to go over this?" he sounded exasperated, like he was a parent who was going over shoelace tying for the thousandth time.

"If you just wanted to keep me safe," Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat, she would NOT cry, "then why did you go out with Luna?"

Harry ground his teeth. "I did NOT go out with Luna, ok, we were…I was just…ugh! I was _fucking her_, ok? That's it. We were using each other to get our jollies."

Ginny pushed her face into his chest so he wouldn't be able to see the fact that some tears were escaping, no matter how hard she tried to keep them in check. She whispered something without realizing it.

"What was that?"

_Uh-oh, busted._

"Ginny?"

"Why her and not me?"

Harry pushed her away from him a bit to look her in the eyes. She was a mess and she couldn't help it. He quickly pulled her back again.

"Would you really have wanted that?" he asked after what seemed like a century.

"Yes," she whispered.

"_Really_?"

"I would have liked the choice," she amended, after thinking about it for a minute.

They silently swayed back and forth to the music for a few moments.

"It backfired anyway," Harry was saying.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't love her, and it cost her her life anyway."

"They didn't kill her because of you."

"Didn't they?" Harry sighed, "it's been really hard, accepting that she's gone. And in the back of my head this really horrible idea keeps floating around."

"What idea?"

"That I'm glad."

"What?" Ginny was shocked. She stood back from him to stare at him, not sure who he was at the moment, "Harry, how could you say something like that?"

"I'm glad that it was her…and not you."

Ginny just continued to stare at him.

"As hard as it is, accepting that she's gone, I didn't love her, so the pain isn't as bad. But when I think that they might have gotten you…it scares the hell out of me. It would have destroyed me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you." He couldn't take it anymore. Ginny continued to stand there, staring at him in shock, but still so beautiful, it almost hurt his eyes to look at her. He reached forward, placing his hands in her hair behind her head and pulled her forward. His mouth found hers, again, _finally again_, and he kissed her with everything he had been holding in check for the past year. Every frustrated kick against a wall in the Burrow during the summer, every time he had wanted to smash something in his anger at her being unreasonable, every time his heart broke when she looked at him _that_ way, even after he had told himself that he hadn't wanted her to. Everything flowed from his mouth to hers.

It was a hell of a kiss.

Ginny couldn't breathe. She was suffocating because Harry Potter's tongue was choking the life out of her.

Not that she would change anything.

She just wrapped her arms more tightly around him and let her senses guide her. His kiss was different from before…neater, she guessed. She decided not to dwell on all the practice he had gotten over the past nine months.

Finally, Harry backed away to catch his breath. He took her hand firmly in his.

"Let's go."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

She was still in shock. She hadn't said one word since Harry had begun dragging her from the Leaving Ball. She had just blindly followed.

Blindly followed him through the silent hallways. Up the changing staircases. Past the portrait of the Fat Lady. Into the Gryffindor Common Room. And then up the stairs…

…to the 7th year boys' dorm.

Oh God, this was really going to happen. She was going to lose her virginity. To Harry. In his dorm.

_Wow, who knew those fevered dreams would be prophetic?_

Before she could blink they were standing in his dorm. Harry turned toward her and kissed her again.

_Oh God, he was really good at this now._

He maneuvered them until the backs of his legs came into contact with his bed. Harry then proceeded to sit down and push himself back to the pillows. She remained standing at the foot of the bed. He laid down on his back and reached a hand out to her. Taking the invitation, Ginny crawled over to him. She reached forward, cursing her hands which were shaking with nerves, and began to undo the buttons on his shirt. She had gotten about three open, when his hands closed over hers and stopped her movement.

"Wait," he said.

She looked at him. He was staring at her strangely.

"Just…come here," he pulled her down and kissed her again. Then he settled her position so that she was laying beside him, her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, preventing her from moving.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"Shh…just go to sleep."

At the power of his suggestion, she started to feel her eyelids get heavy. Although she tried valiantly to fight it, before too long, Ginny had fallen into a deep sleep.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Ron reached down to lace up his trainers. Righting himself once more he had to shake his head to clear the cobwebs out. He was still really tired. It wasn't his fault that they had been up all night.

_Oh, wait a minute_, he smiled smugly to himself, _it __**had**__ been all his fault. Well, his and Hermione's beautiful, luscious body, anyhow._

The shaking of his head proceeded to make him dizzy. He laid back on Hermione's bed.

_This will be the last time I look up at this ceiling. _

_This will be the last time I lay on this bed._

He was starting to get a little upset.

Sitting up again, he noticed Draco pacing in a _very_ nonchalant way outside Hermione's door.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco seemed surprised that Ron was speaking to him.

"Oh, nothing, you know, just wondering when you lot were going to the train and everything…" _what the hell was wrong with that boy lately? He had been acting, almost…human…_

Ron sighed. He couldn't believe he was actually going to do this.

"You know, there's a group of us who are going to go out to brunch or lunch or something in Hogsmeade before we catch the train. You should come."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you know, kind of a 'last hurrah, we're not quite sure we're happy to be graduated' thing."

"Oh, well…yeah, that could be good," Draco stood there nodding in a completely ridiculous way, "when are you going?"

"Well, Hermione and I are going to head down as soon as we double check that all our stuff got sent to the train."

"Oh, err…I'm all packed now," Draco mumbled quickly.

"You're more than welcome to walk down with us, Malfoy," _why the hell was he feeling so indulgent?_

"Oh, well, smashing then."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Amazingly, they had amassed a group of about 20 people for lunch. Draco felt a little better when he arrived to find Blaise Zabinni sitting next to Ernie MacMillan, talking about…something.

He was feeling pretty relaxed and actually found himself contributing to the conversation. People were a little hesitant around him at first, and Finnegan kept giving him death glares over his toast, but it wasn't too bad.

Ron spent most of the lunch silently eating and observing those around him. Not that he was retaining all that much, since Hermione's left hand was placed firmly on his thigh. _How could he be expected to concentrate when she was touching him?_

One thing he did notice was that Harry and his sister were sitting _very_ close together. Like couple close. He felt Hermione notice it too, but they wisely decided not to comment.

At least until they were at the Burrow and away from gossip hungry ears.

Ron looked around the table at the people that he had spent the better part of a decade with. People that there was a good chance he would never see again. He was marching off to war. Even if _he_ survived, there was no guarantee that _they_ would.

Hermione seemed to sense he was sad. She squeezed his leg and looked at him.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

"Sure, why wouldn't it be?"

"You've hardly eaten anything."

"Oh. Do you think you'll miss it?"

"What, school?"

"Yeah."

"I already do," she sighed sadly.

_Well, at least he wasn't the only one._

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The train ride seemed to go by so fast. Before they knew it, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Draco were standing on the platform at King's Cross.

"So, two weeks then?" Draco asked, eyeing the two Ministry officials who were there to escort him to a safe house.

"Yeah, you should floo to the Burrow on July 1st. We'll go to the train together. It's just easier that way," Ron was saying.

"Sure, sounds good," Draco shouldered the strap of his bag, "so, see you in two weeks, then."

They all turned to leave. Draco going off in one direction, Harry and Hermione in another, and Ron and Ginny in a third.

Two weeks was not a lot of time.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note:** Having never been to the UK, and not having access to a _Harry Potter_ atlas, the distances between places are probably a little skewed. Please forgive any inconsistencies. I am always open to corrections as well.

Also, there is a bit of a naughty scene at the end of this chapter. If you think it will offend you, stop reading after the line:

"_I can do that," he replied, pulling her bodily up his chest as he reached his head down to allow his lips to meet hers._

Enjoy!

Harry and Hermione arrived at the Burrow two days after everyone parted ways at King's Cross. The two brunettes traveled with Hermione's parents to Kent, where they picked up her car and a few other necessities. Then, they planned on taking a mini-road trip to Ottery St. Catchpole. They gorged themselves on candy, soda, and horrifically fattening foods for 24 hours on the drive back to the Burrow. Hermione was pretty sure that she and Harry were going to be suffering the effects of diabetic shock by the time they reached Mrs. Weasley's loving care.

But she wouldn't have traded those two days for anything.

It was the first time that she could remember that she and Harry ever did anything that was just them. Since he would be leaving her in 12 days, she wanted to soak up every experience she could with the boy she had come to love as a brother. As long as she didn't stop to think about it, she didn't even get teary-eyed.

She let Harry take a turn driving the car, an experience that taught them both to never, EVER let him behind the wheel again. But he _was_ a good navigator. They only got lost three times. This was a pretty good result, as neither of them had ever gone to the Burrow using traditional Muggle means. And Hermione only had to fight the urge to turn around and take Harry into hiding once.

Honest.

They talked. Hour after hour they talked. She heard about Sirius, about Luna, about Ginny. He heard about being an animagus, about Malcolm, about Ron. Harry found it weird that he _wasn't_ weirded out hearing Hermione talk about his best mate, and former roommate, in such lovely-dovey terms. They even wandered into the issue of sex.

"Did you sleep with Ginny the night of the Leaving Ball?" she asked him outright.

"Did I sleep with her? Yes. Did we shag? No."

"Well, that's good."

"Why is it good?"

"Because neither of you are in the proper place right now to take your relationship to the next level."

"Really?"

"My God, don't you think _anything_ through?"

"Of course," he huffed at her, "why are we not in the 'proper place right now'?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to huff.

"Do you love her?" Hermione asked, going in for the kill.

Harry was quiet. Hermione pursed her lips. _It wasn't fun being right all the time._

"Yes," he answered softly, after several minutes had gone by.

"Really?" She was genuinely surprised to hear him say it. She thought it was a pretty safe bet to think he felt it, but to hear him say it…wow, he _was_ making progress.

"Yeah, I think I really do."

"Well, that's something then," as proud as she was of him at this moment, she still had a point to make, "is she your girlfriend again, then?"

"I…I don't know," he hesitated.

"Ok, well, what happened the night of the Leaving Ball?"

"We were dancing, and I was pretty sauced, and then we started talking, and then it kinda turned into a fight, and then I kissed her, and then…."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Hermione interrupted, "you kissed her?"

"Yes."

"Well, why did you do that?"

"Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Ok, so then what happened?"

"Err, then I took her upstairs to my dorm room, and then…"

"Wait a minute, I have to stop you again," Hermione interrupted again, "I don't need the graphic details. But you _didn't_ shag her?"

"No."

"Did you intend to when you brought her up there?"

"I think so," Harry said, after thinking about it for another few minutes.

"So what stopped you?"

"I was laying on the bed, and the fucking…oh sorry," he amended after Hermione shot him a look, "and the room was spinning and Ginny came forward and began trying to unbutton my shirt. I looked down at her hands, and they were shaking. She was scared…of _me_…of what we were about to do. Luna never did that."

"No?"

"No…she was always completely confident. She had, err…some experience with shagging already. If anything, I was the one who was the total wreck the first couple times."

"So Ginny's inexperience turned you off?"

"No…it was the importance of the thing…a girl's first time should be romantic and stuff, should be planned, not with some drunken wanker in his bloody dorm room when there is a good possibility that he will either puke on her or blow his load too soon."

"You've given this some thought," Hermione commented quietly.

"You have no idea," Harry admitted, looking out the window, to try to avoid how embarrassed he was by how much he was revealing.

"So you decided not to shag her?"

"Right, but I didn't want to let her go, either, so I basically forced her into sleeping with me."

"How did you accomplish that?"

"I laid her down next to me and hugged her so tightly she couldn't move away. I stayed that way until I felt her go to sleep. Then I had to roll over and throw up, but I brought her back up against me and went to sleep myself. Or passed out, rather."

"Gross."

"I cleaned everything up," he was quiet again for a few seconds, "it was really cute though…"

"What was?"

"In the morning, when she woke up, she had imprints from my shirt buttons running down her face."

"Those Weasleys do look cute in the morning, don't they?" Hermione smiled at him. They drove a few more miles, enjoying the quiet.

"Did _you_ sleep with _Ron_ the night of the Leaving Ball?"

Hermione pulled her sunglasses down slightly to arch an eyebrow at him.

"What do you think?"

"I think that the saying 'it's always the quiet ones' is absolutely correct."

"Oh please, when have you ever known me to be 'quiet'?"

"So it's ok for Ron to get shagged the night of the Leaving Ball but not me?"

"It's not the first time Ron and I slept together; it won't be the last."

"You sound confident."

"Well, as confident as two more weeks will make me, anyway."

"I can't believe you aren't coming with us," Harry said sadly.

"Well, those were the cards I was dealt," now it was Hermione's turn to think for a bit, "maybe it's better this way."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's better that you boys are getting the opportunity to go off and have an adventure on your own. You know, you can go and make bodily noises and eat like pigs and stuff without worrying about me telling you to clean up after yourselves and watch your language."

"Well, that _would_ be fun," Harry teased her, amazed at the light mood her words put in him, "you would probably frown on us giving Malfoy a swirly."

"I wouldn't be too confident that you would be able to catch him," she smiled, "remember he's been to prison."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh, I think you should ask him. I'm sure he would love to explain it to you in graphic detail."

He laughed, not really understanding what she meant. But the opportunity to embarrass Malfoy did sound promising.

He almost didn't want to get there. Who knew just hanging out with Hermione could be so much fun?

But, eventually, they did get there. The Burrow. His home away from home, so to speak. The ramshackle house full of red heads. Nine of them, plus Fleur, when they were all in residence.

Ron was waiting for them out on the front porch.

"Took you two long enough," he groused, moving to the trunk to get Hermione's bag.

"We took the scenic route," Hermione replied, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hi," said a voice softly behind him. Harry turned his head to see Ginny standing there, in all her self-conscious glory.

"Hey," he said back, smile coming to his face without his even thinking about it.

Even though there were more available rooms at the Burrow now, with most of the children having moved out, Hermione and Harry decided to uphold tradition and bunk with Ginny and Ron.

"Just like old times," Hermione said, throwing her purse on the cot in Ginny's room.

"Yeah, swell," Ginny replied, tripping over Hermione's trunk.

The four of them spent every second they could together, not doing anything, particularly, except being with each other. Hermione tried to occupy herself as much as possible, not wanting to let her mind wand to what would happen _after_ July 1st. She received her acceptance letter to Morganna University in London, which required them all to go visit the campus and shop for her school supplies in Diagon Alley. They made a day of it, picking up Ginny's school supplies and having lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.

"This may be the last time the four of us sit here," Ginny commented without thinking as they waited in their booth for lunch.

"Thanks, Gin," Ron replied crossly.

They stretched each hour to pack in as much as they could, but the days slipped past quickly. A week had gone by when Harry found himself washing the dinner dishes with Ginny in the Burrow's kitchen.

"So, what's going on with us?" she asked suddenly, taking a page out of his "let's be blunt now" book.

"We're washing dishes."

"How very clever you are at being evasive. Hermione must be giving you lessons."

"Would you believe me if I said that I was terrified of having this discussion with you?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes, but we're going to have it anyway?"

He stopped to look at her. "So is Hermione giving you bullying lessons as well?"

She smiled, "not lessons so much as I am very observant."

"I get that you're hesitant about having this discussion," she began again, leaning against the sink with one hand on her hip, turning to look at him fully, "but we need to have it. You owe me that much."

"You're right, I do," he, too, stopped what he was doing and turned to face her, "where do you want to start?"

"How do you feel about me?"

"You know that."

"I want to hear it."

He hesitated.

"Doesn't it help that you're already said it?"

"Well, if I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?"

"Because you were drunk last time."

"That's why it doesn't help; I was drunk."

"So you don't really feel that way?"

"No, I do…it's just that, if I say it out loud, it's like it has marked you or something."

"So we're back to the whole 'distance will keep Ginny safe' routine?"

"I can't change who I am, Gin, don't expect me to. Yes, I want to keep you as safe as I can, and if that means making sacrifices, then so be it."

She turned from him to think and washed a few more dishes.

"Before the Leaving Ball, Ron asked me if torturing you made me feel better," she said, seemingly changing the subject.

"And does it?"

"No, it made me miserable, but I still thought you should suffer. Then he asked what was the point of making you suffer, if I was just as upset as you?"

"When did Ron become so diabolically clever?"

"I know, right? This is the same thing. Are you happy making me suffer?"

"You are being a _little_ melodramatic, Gin."

"Am I?"

"Yes. This isn't some kind of game. This is war. Yes, the Deatheaters already have a reason to hunt you down. I really don't want to give them another. And you have no idea how appealing a target you would be."

They silently went back to their chore for another few moments.

"But you do…" she began.

"Yes, I do love you," he interrupted. Somehow it was easier to say when he was agitated. No wonder Ron and Hermione seemed to get along so well now.

"You know, Draco said once that I was in danger by knowing you, but he also said I was a danger _to_ you," she began once more, on yet another train of thought. Harry was having trouble keeping up sometimes.

"Really? He really said that?" this was a shocking piece of information, "did he say why?"

She huffed, "the short version is that I'm stupid."

"I don't think that," now he was offended on her behalf. As though he needed another reason to want to knock Malfoy's teeth down his throat.

"Well, maybe it was more that I'm too naïve and too gullible," she placed the last dish in the sudsy water, "he's right you know. It's good that I won't be going with you. I'm too much of a liability."

"How can you say that? I mean, I would be pretty distracted, sure, but that doesn't have anything to do with how good of a soldier you would be."

"He was right, Harry. I _am_ too gullible and too naïve. But I spent all year trying to be better. And I'll keep trying. I want to do my part, no matter how small."

He reached forward and held her head, kissing the side of it. "You already do." He smiled at her and went to hang up the towels outside so that they could dry.

"Harry?" she called after him.

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Ron lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. _To think, this is the last time for who knows how long I'll lie in this bed and stare at this ceiling._ He refused to think that he would never see his ceiling again. _Got to think positively._

Where had two weeks gone? Suddenly it was the night of June 30th, Hermione and Ginny would be taking him, Harry, and Malfoy to the train _tomorrow_. He almost couldn't believe that this was it.

His parents hadn't said anything about it, as they were all supposed to be keeping it a secret. But amazingly, _all_ of his brothers had shown up, _inconspicuously_, for dinner that night. They all tiptoed around the fact that Ron and Harry were leaving. Everyone really knew, but no one could say anything.

He was rather surprised that the meal hadn't been more tense. Conversation made things light. Bill and Fleur talked about married life while Fred teased Hermione about being next. Used to him, she teased him right back, asking where Angelina had run off to. Altogether, it had been a great night.

But now it was over, and he was supposed to be getting his rest before the "Big Day."

He couldn't sleep.

_Why not have some fun?_

Harry's rthymic breathing lulled him into a hypnotic trance as he reached out with his abilities.

_Harry…sleeping, thankfully no dreams._

_Mum and Dad…sleeping. Dad's dreaming about…a radio?_

_Ginny…sleeping. Ginny's dreaming about…EWW! I did NOT need to see that._

_Ugh!_

_Hermione…bingo._

_Are you being naughty, Ron?_ She mentally asked him.

_Depends on what you mean by "naughty."_

_Are you prying into other people's thoughts while they're asleep?_

_Not prying, just trying to find out who's awake._

_I'm awake, as you can see._

_Can you get to Bill's old room?_

_…yes, I think I can manage that._

Ron slipped as silently as he could out of the bed. Harry was typically a light sleeper; he would have to be careful. Years of sleeping in that room had taught him where the creaky floorboards were.

He was down the hall, down the stairs, and in Bill's room in less than three minutes. Hermione took a little longer.

"I'm rather surprised you weren't asleep like everyone else," Ron said quietly, startling Hermione as she crept through the door.

"As though I could sleep tonight," she walked immediately to where he lay, sprawled on the bed, and crawled in beside him. He cast an imperturbable and a silencing charm on the room before placing his wand on the nightstand and wrapping his arms around her.

"You know…"

"Don't," she interrupted, "I don't want to talk about tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me."

"I can do that," he replied, pulling her bodily up his chest as he reached his head down to allow his lips to meet hers.

They kissed for a long time, as though savoring every texture, every taste, needing to imprint it on their memories for the time to come. They were slow, deliberate, systematic. Ron ran his hands up and down Hermione's back, forcing his fingers to memorize the feel of her nightgown, the heat from her skin, the distance from the small of her back to her shoulder blades. Hermione's hands were in Ron's hair, trying to count each strand.

They broke apart only long enough to get Ron's shirt off. Hermione took a moment to count the freckles on his torso with her lips. Using her fingers, she traced the outlines of the muscles on his chest and stomach, even though she knew how much it tickled him.

When she moved her lips back up to kiss Ron's face, he broke away, kissing down her neck. He gently sucked and nipped on the curve where her neck met her shoulder, marking her in his adolescent way for as long as it would last.

Her legs had carelessly flopped on either side of his and she unconsciously squeezed them together as she got more excited. This was all the signal Ron needed to pull her right leg to hook over his hip and roll over her left, all in one fluid motion. From his new position atop her, he ground into her, as Hermione wrapped her other leg around his hip.

Ron reached down to the hem of Hermione's nightgown and yanked it up, ripping the lace on the bottom as he met resistance. She maneuvered so that he could get the offending garment off. Laying back down, Hermione took her feet and pushed against the waistband of his boxers, wanting them gone.

What had started off as a slow, methodical burn was now an inferno. Six months of practice allowed Ron and Hermione to know without words how to move, where to touch, what that sigh meant. Hermione's legs went around his waist again, pulling his hardness into her softness.

He hadn't been ready; he almost lost it. This time wasn't like any of the others. It seemed hotter…more intense…more sad. He didn't want to leave her. He couldn't leave her! This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He wanted to change his mind. He wouldn't go.

Hermione seemed to realize that he was having a small breakdown. She reached up and held his head between both of her hands. She held his eyes for a few seconds and then brought his face down to hers, to kiss as she massaged the back of his neck.

His new position changed the sensations for her and she rubbed against him harder, aching for climax. It didn't take long before she was screaming his name and gripping his hair so tightly he worried he would have bald patches in the morning. The feeling of her walls closing in on him was more than he could take. It was too much and he had an orgasm too soon after.

He collapsed wearily onto her sweaty chest and closed his eyes. The last thing he felt before he passed out was Hermione gently smoothing his hair away from his eyes and caressing his back.


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note:** I wept buckets writing and editing this chapter.

Draco landed hard on his rear-end and coughed. The floo powder had once again gone up his nose and coated his whole windpipe. He hated traveling by floo.

As the dust cleared, a hand reached down. Presuming it was there to offer assistance, and not to choke him, he grabbed it and used the other person's weight as leverage to hoist himself up and out of the hearth. He found himself in a warm, brightly lit kitchen. There was a long oaken table surrounded by countless mismatched chairs. The kitchen necessities lined the wall opposite the hearth and there was a strange grandfather clock standing sentinel over the entrance to the stairway.

He blinked and looked around again. Everything was spotlessly clean. The items had been used, but didn't look drab or tattered. _Well-loved_ was an expression he had heard someone use once. That described this place. And the smell…

_Was someone baking biscuits?_

"You can save your heartless comments; we won't be here long," said the voice attached to the hand.

Draco turned his head around to find out who was speaking to him.

"Stand down, Potter," he replied, calling up a bored tone, "what makes you think I was going to say anything at all?"

"You were standing here, examining the place looking as though you had smelled something bad."

"I must still have floo in my nostrils," he didn't really feel like fighting. He had a notion that there would be plenty of time to battle it out with Potter in the days and weeks to come, "I was actually thinking how different this place is from the Manor."

"It's not going to infect you."

"Oh will you relax? _Honestly_…where's Granger?"

"She's upstairs with Ron."

"Oh…where's Ginny?"

"Outside, getting some clothes off the line for her mother."

"So I guess I'm stuck with you for the time being."

"Looks like."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

"Did you pack your toothbrush?" Hermione asked as she went through the things in Ron's bag for what had to be the hundredth time.

"Yes, _Mum_, I think that by now we've got everything."

"What about that book on easy home remedies I got you?" she kept shoving things into the bag.

"Hermione, I can only take so much," he removed the three sweaters she had just packed. Seeing as how they hadn't fit him in three years, he didn't know how useful they would be at The Front.

"You are a wizard, Ronald, you can always charm the bag to hold more than Muggle physics would allow," she stopped suddenly and rubbed her temples. The entire day so far had been one of fits and starts.

She hadn't slept all night. She simply laid there, feeling Ron's weight on top of her, staring at the ceiling and caressing his back. Thoughts kept her awake. Four a.m. was a dangerous hour, one that almost had her following through with her plan to wake him and beg him to run off with her. _Where had two weeks gone?_

_Where had seven years gone?_

As the seconds ticked passed, driving them ever closer to when the boys had to be on the train, she grew more and more angry at herself, and him, for all the time they had wasted. She couldn't help but secretly wish that this was all a dream. If she tried really hard, she would wake up in the Hospital Wing back at Hogwarts, and this all would have been just a flu-induced hallucination.

_Wake up, wake up, wake up…_

Ron couldn't take it anymore. He stepped forward and wrapped Hermione in his arms, holding her close to his chest, breathing her in again and again, trying to memorize every molecule he could.

"Please don't do this…" he began, unsure of exactly what he was going to say to her.

"I'm trying so hard not to cry."

"I know, I appreciate it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, if _you_ start to cry, I don't think I'd be able to stop _myself_ from crying," he smiled down at her, "and I think it's a little early in our relationship for you to see me blubbering like a whelp."

She looked up at him with a watery smile before breaking away. She walked over to his dresser and stopped.

"Oh Mione, please stop packing. I'm sure that I don't need my baby scrapbook while I'm off fighting the forces of evil."

She didn't respond, merely turned around carrying a small black velvet box in her hands.

"I have something for you."

"You got me a present?"

"Sort of…open it."

He gingerly opened the clamshell box to find a gold pendant starring back at him. It had a rune on it that he couldn't place.

"This looks like the necklace I got you for Christmas."

"That was kind of the point; I wanted them to match, at least a little bit."

"I'm not good with runes, Mione, what does it mean?"

"It's a rune for protection."

"Mione…"

"Promise me you'll never take it off."

"Mione, I don't believe in that kind of stuff."

"I don't care; promise me."

"Ok, ok, I promise."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him with all her might.

"You had better help me put it on." Taking the jewelry in her hands, she clasped the chain around his neck. Then she dropped it under his shirt and smoothed the garment.

"There, you can hardly see it underneath your shirt."

"I won't take it off," he said again, quietly.

"I know."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

He ambushed her as soon as he saw her coming down the stairs.

"Granger," Draco began without preamble, startling her, "I want to ask a favor of you."

"What do you want?"

"How do you feel about breaking and entering?"

"Pardon?"

"I've written up a list," he unfolded a rather large piece of parchment where she could see several items written down in his precise handwriting, "I was wondering if you would collect these things for me."

"Collect them from where?"

"The Manor."

"Draco…"

"Here is the address. You will probably have to drive there using your Muggle auto the first few times until you get the feel for the place. The floo has been disabled and only people with special clearance can apparate into or out of the grounds. The closest you can get is the perimeter fence. This is the key," he dangled a scary-looking skeleton key in front of her on a chain, "I've dismissed all the house elves, so the house should be empty."

"Wow…"

"Don't take that as gospel, though. The elves weren't happy about it, so they may still be hanging around. Especially those that were _particularly_ loyal to Lucius, if you get my meaning. Don't just trust that the place will be deserted. It has a funny feel to it, as though somebody has been using it for something. So check it out before you go."

"Ok."

"The things on this list are rather important to me. If you would remove them to a safe location, I would be very grateful."

"Draco, why didn't you just get all this when the Ministry guys took you there for your things?"

"Well, I didn't really want them sniffing around the house or finding out what my assets were. They didn't have a search warrant, you know."

Hermione turned this little piece of information over in her head. _He had a good point…_

"As compensation for this favor, you may help yourself to anything you wish to take from the house, provided it isn't on the list. My mother had a rather extensive jewelry collection, if I remember correctly…" he added, trying to sweeten the pot.

"Draco, you didn't put down where these things are located in the house."

"I didn't have time; you'll just have to figure it out," he turned to walk away from her.

"Hey," she said, grabbing his arm, "are there any special security features I should know about?"

"Security features?"

"Yeah, anything that's going to get a whiff of my 'less than pure' blood and set me on fire or something?"

"I'll let you in on a little secret," he leaned in close, "the only way you can tell a pure-blood from a mu…err…Muggle-born is by knowing who their parents are. Physically, there really isn't any difference."

"Wait a minute, so Voldemort's whole worldview is based on something as shallow as that?"

"Well, what's the difference between a Nazi and a Jew if you take their religion away?"

"Are you kidding?" she stared at him in disbelief.

"Look, as fascinating as I am sure this conversation would be we don't really have the time now. Will you loot the Manor or not?"

"Oh yeah, I think I could do a really good job of that," Hermione answered holding the skeleton key in her hand and smirking at it.

"Somehow, I thought you would get a kick out of the job."

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

Draco only spent about an hour at the Burrow. Before too long, Ron and Hermione were down the stairs, Ginny was in from outside, and all of their stuff was being magicked into the boot of Hermione's car. He kind of wished he had had more time to look around.

How different this house was from the Manor. Where the Manor was all cool colors, the Burrow was alive with reds, yellows, and browns. The Manor was silent; the Burrow was bustling. The Manor smelled like a library, dead. The Burrow smelled like something was always baking in the cookers.

_What must it have been like to grow up in such a place?_

He somehow didn't think that there would be any priceless porcelain sculptures to break here. And no spankings for breaking said sculptures, either.

Draco was rather surprised that the Weasley matriarch wasn't there herself, blubbering all over her beloved youngest son, and Potter, the practically-adopted son. Ron told him quietly that his father had taken her out for the day, to make things easier, apparently. Mrs. Weasley would come home and the boys would just be gone. She wouldn't be able to moan about things for hours on end.

He wondered what his own mother's reaction would be.

Would she be proud? Would she think him foolish, laying his life on the line for no apparent gain? Would she caution him about going off with people who had, and probably still, despised him?

Would she worry about him while he was gone?

He shifted a bit in the back seat of Hermione's car, trying to put some space between himself and Ginny.

_Yes,_ he thought, _she would worry about him. She had loved him very much._

Ginny felt him fidgeting and reached over to pat his hand. The gesture seemed to calm him. Draco put his head back and closed his eyes, trying to sleep until they reached the station.

Ginny's other hand, meanwhile, was held tightly in Harry's. She gave him a little squeeze to remind him that she was there. Turning his head from where he had been staring out the window for the whole drive, he gave her a smile and squeezed back.

The entire car was silent. Hermione held the steering wheel in a death grip as she navigated the unfamiliar streets to get them into London, and then into the part of London that held the train station.

Ron's posture mimicked Harry's as he stared out the passenger window.

This was it. In less than two hours he would be gone from this place, without the promise of ever seeing Hermione again.

Over the course of the previous two weeks, he had tried to convey how he felt about her; what she meant to him. But he was never really good with expressing himself. The feeling of failure nagged at him. He couldn't just leave things like this. Then a thought struck him…

…if he could take thoughts and images _out_ of people, who said he couldn't take his own thoughts and images and put them _in_ to people?

Summoning up concentration he wasn't sure he had, he reached out and placed his right hand on Hermione's leg. He took a deep breath and tried to organize his thoughts. He hoped that she would be open and able to receive the message.

She got it, alright, and nearly crashed the car in the process. The emotional overload caused a tiny crack in her armor, allowing a single tear to escape her eyes and run down her cheek.

She looked at him briefly. In the split second their eyes met, he knew. The message had gotten through.

TLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTLTL

The train station wasn't busy as it was a Thursday afternoon. They were even able to find parking relatively nearby. Continuing along silently, they found the platform where the boys would be leaving from and waited the fifteen minutes until the train arrived. The locomotive pulling up to the gate was the saddest thing Ginny had ever seen.

"Well, looks like this is it," Hermione said, after the conductor had taken their parcels. She stepped forward and hugged Draco. He was so shocked it took him a few seconds to react.

"Take care of my boys," she whispered in his ear, giving him another squeeze, "and take care of yourself."

He pulled away to look at her.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"Everything."

"You did it yourself," she replied, leaving him to embrace Harry.

This hug was a little tighter.

"I love you," she said, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his head with the side of hers.

"I love you too," she thought she heard him reply from where his face was buried in her neck.

"Harry, look at me," she placed her hands on either side of his face, "be careful. Listen to what the other's think before you going running off into peril. And don't do anything too noble, okay?"

"But I thought I was supposed to save the day?" he joked weakly.

"You can do that and still come home in one piece," she pulled him into an embrace again, "just be careful. I don't have any other brothers, you know."

"I know."

The last one in line was the hardest. She couldn't do anything but stare at Ron for a few seconds. Finally, he reached for her and she fell forward into his arms.

"In the car…" she managed to croak out, voice breaking before anything else could be said. He hugged her so tightly she could hardly breathe.

"I'm not good with words, you know that," she heard him say, his voice breaking just as much as hers, "so I tried to _show_ you."

"Yes," she said, "to everything."

Their faces seemed to turn toward each other with the same invisible cue. It was a kiss out of a storybook, one that would wake a sleeping princess, or bring a marble statue to life. The world should stop and wait for a kiss like that.

Unfortunately, it doesn't.

When they finally broke apart, at the sound of the conductor's subtle cough, they looked at each other with dry eyes.

Nothing more needed to be said.

She stood there, still, but her eyes followed him as he turned from her, walked the six steps to board the train, and handed the conductor his ticket. He turned back once to see her standing there, silently stoic, while Ginny cried a deluge at her side.

_That's my girl_, he thought, closed his eyes and boarded the train.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note**: Well…here we are…the end…

…BUT WAIT! We can't leave it there!!!!! Don't worry, true believers, there will be a sequel in a month or so.

But _Beautiful Disaster_ HAS to get finished first, before readers start burning me in effigy on the internet.

Enjoy!

_The pain is indescribable. Sometimes my heart hurts so much I can hardly stand to breathe. __**He**__ is gone. __**They**__ are gone. That's it. I won't hear from them for a very long time, if ever. I miss them so much already it hurts to think._

_I slept in Ron's bed last night. I tossed and turned for two hours on my cot in Ginny's room before getting up to pace in the hall. My feet carried me to his door. My hand opened it and then my legs walked me to his bed where I collapsed. The last thing I remember before completely passing out was the smell. It was as though Ron were right there with me, hugging me close._

_When I woke up this morning, Ginny was curled in a tight ball on the bed Harry had always used._

_I guess I wasn't the only one._

_I am in agony and it is for purely selfish reasons. They went to do what they had to do. Now, I have to be a grown up and do whatever it is that I have to do. But everything hurts!_

_Oh Merlin, what would I do if, __**God forbid,**__ something were to happen to him?!?! Please, dear God or whatever exists up in the Heavens, watch over him. Keep him safe. Bring him home soon._

The blot confused Hermione. She reached up to touch her cheek and found wetness. She hadn't even known she was crying. Taking a deep breath, she closed her journal and sat back against the tree. She stretched her legs out and pointed her toes toward the far reaches of the Burrow.

She needed to get out of here.

Inside, Ginny watched Hermione through the kitchen window. Her friend hadn't said one word in nearly 24 hours. Everyone at the Burrow was subdued, but Hermione was silent.

"She still out there wallowing?"

"Hush, George," Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Not being able to take anymore, Ginny wandered outside.

"Looks like a storm's brewing," she said, gesturing toward the rapidly darkening sky.

"Looks like," Hermione replied dully.

"Hermione, you have to snap out of this; you're scaring me."

"Am I, Ginny? I'm sorry. I'm scaring myself."

"He'll be alright."

"Will he?"

"Yes, he's with Harry, they're together. They'll be alright."

"Yes, he's with Harry. He'll go with Harry; he'll follow Harry. He'll follow Harry everywhere. Up and down and in and out. He'll follow Harry right into his grave," she turned on her heel and walked into the Burrow, leaving Ginny alone as thunder began to crash above their heads.

To Be Continued…


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: The title of this story came from a poem. I have transcribed if below for anyone who is interested.

If By Rudyard Kipling 1 If you can keep your head when all about you 

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait, and not be tired of waiting,

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

2.

If you can dream-and not make dreams your master;

If you can think-and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two imposters just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,

And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

3.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold On!"

4.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings-not lose the common touch;

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt;

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run-

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And-which is more-

You'll be a Man, my son!


End file.
